


Sinking In

by Indig0



Series: PL600 Adventures [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Simon and his collection of weird android friends, Simon has trouble making friends, all softness and warmth for machine!Simon, but some find him anyway, deviant!Simon hates his life, he loves everything, he would rather go back to being a machine, things will get worse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15697533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indig0/pseuds/Indig0
Summary: Starting out as an unwelcome gift didn't stop the PL600 Simon from finding his place in his new household.  It may be hard to imagine losing this soft, sweet life where everything makes sense, but a machine doesn't need to think about that.The first two chapters can be seen as an introduction, and then the real action will start!





	1. Sunbeams

**_*Welcome to Cyberlife*_ ** __

_Android model: PL600  
Serial Number: 501 743 923  
Activation: February 15, 2035, 09:43:12_

_Initiate greeting, register owner[s]._

PL600 smiled.

“Good morning! Thank you for choosing PL600 as your household helper –“

“Does your mother just sit around all day looking for new ways to make life harder on us?” 

PL600 focused on a man and woman standing in front of him. “I just have a few questions before I get started. First, may I register your names? I –“

“She said she got the best one in the store,” the man was saying, talking over the android, ignoring it.

“What store, Goodwill? This model’s going to be obsolete soon – and it’s not like we couldn’t afford to get a nicer one!” the woman hissed.

“What would you like me to call you?” PL600’s smile softened a bit. It could sense the couple’s stress level had risen.

“Just – Mr. and Mrs. Ames –“

“Jim, don’t engage with it, you know the store won’t take it back now!”

“We already turned it on, it’s too late for that, let’s just make the best of it!”

“Well I guess we’ll have to until we can upgrade. You know your mother wanted this, and then she’ll turn around and call me ungrateful when I don’t kiss her ass for getting this… this thing.” She sighed, shoulders slumping, and they both looked at PL600, whose smile looked hopeful.

“If you like, you can assign me a name.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” the man said, glancing at his wife. “Uh – the manual had a whole list of things you could do.”

“That’s right. Please, tell me how you’d like me to help out. I am currently the most versatile household assistant model Cyberlife manufactures, and I can help out with cooking, cleaning, childcare, gardening, and more!”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go through what we want you to do,” the woman said with a sigh, turning away. “I hope you won’t need too much instruction.”

“No, Mrs. Ames, I am quite capable of working independently, don’t worry.” The android’s gaze was drawn to movement in the doorway: A long-haired cat [Breed: Ragdoll, Sex: Male Neutered, Age: Adult, Behavior: Inquisitive]. He walked up and sniffed PL600’s leg, and he rubbed his cheek against its fingers before walking away, tail waving back and forth. It was a pleasant feeling.

“What a beautiful cat. What is his name?”

“Oh, that’s Pasquale.”

She went through a list of basic tasks as she led the android through the house, each of which it filed away as an ongoing directive. Vacuum and sweep twice a week, dust once a week. Feed Pasquale twice a day, and clean the litterbox once a day. Don’t ask what we want for dinner, but we may tell you sometimes. Try to get the twins to pick up after themselves, but don’t let the house get cluttered if they won’t.”

“Twins!” A warm smile, a slightly tilted head. “How old are they?”

“They’re ten. Nick and Tess. When they get home from school, they get a small snack, then you’ll need to help them with their homework.”

 

 

By the time the twins got home, PL600 had dinner ready to go in the oven, and had slices of fruit and cheese on the table for them. The house had been swept, vacuumed, and dusted. Various fixtures had been cleaned.

The children arrived in a rush of excitement and complaints, but screeched to a halt on the threshold. PL600 smiled.

“Hello! You must be Nick and Tess. I am PL600, and I am so pleased to start helping you around the house. Tell me, how was school?”

“I didn’t know we were getting an android,” Tess said.

“Tim’s got a PL600 at home,” Nick told her, eyes never leaving their new android. “He said it’s okay.”

“…Tim’s a nerd.”

“Yeah.”

“I prepared you a light snack to eat,” PL600 said. “And then I can help you both with your homework. I am eager to see what you are studying in school.”

“Dumb stuff,” Nick muttered, rolling his eyes. “Do you have a name, or are you just PL600?”

The blue eyes might have brightened a bit, at this return to an overlooked inquiry. “Would you like to give me a name?”

“What’s Tim’s PL600’s name?” Tess asked.

“Gandalf.” Nick retched at the name, and Tess wrinkled her nose.

“Ew.” Tess looked up at it as she chewed an apple slice thoughtfully. “What about Justin. Or Daniel.”

“Buttface.” Nick giggled.

“No! Don’t be dumb. Um… Brian. Jonah.”

“You’re just naming those stupid guys from Ever Ending.”

“They’re good names!” Tess insisted, blushing. “What about Simon?”

“Is he the –“

“It’s not anybody, it’s from the Bible. …And that dumb cartoon Grandpa showed us when we were little, with the guinea pig-guys, remember? The tall blue one?”

They scrutinized PL600 together. Even taking into account the fact that they were fraternal twins, rather than identical, they didn’t look much alike.

“Yeah, I guess,” Nick conceded.

“…My name is Simon. Confirm?” There was an odd anticipation to this directive.

“Yeah, confirm. Simon. …Can you get me a Coke, Simon? I always have a Coke after school.”

Simon smiled. “No you don’t,” it said gently. “But dinner will be ready in a few hours. Let’s get started on your homework now.”

 

 

Over the next few months, Simon settled in with the Ames family. Even Mrs. Ames would admit that he was helpful. They had all slipped into calling Simon ‘him,’ because he was designed to look male, and it seemed more natural. 

The house was immaculate and they all enjoyed their meals. Tess’s grades were improving. There were fewer phone calls home about Nick’s behavior.

Familiarity had led Simon to accomplish his tasks more efficiently, which often led to a few quiet moments in the afternoon, before the twins got home. At first he would stand idle, or look for additional work. One day, though, he came upon Pasquale stretched out in lateral recumbency on the thick white carpet. The afternoon sun shone down on him, and when Simon paused to look at him, he didn’t acknowledge the android.

Quietly, Simon stepped closer and crouched down.

“Mrrt?” Pasquale made a surprised sound, his head jerking up, but then his blue eyes closed again as he lifted his nose to sniff. He began to purr.

Simon had seen the family pet Pasquale, and he reached out to carefully imitate the correct motion. Before he could, though, the cat’s chin jutted out and he rubbed his cheek on Simon’s fingers again, his purr swelling. The softness, the desire to touch him, apparent happiness at his presence, acceptance of him as a fellow sentient being with whom to share an experience -

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

…It was a cat, in the end. Cats rub their cheeks on people and objects. It was nothing to get unstable over. Probably not worth sending a report, he didn’t want to waste anyone’s time.

Still, from that point on, the warning would appear from time to time. When one of the children worked through a math problem they were having trouble with, or showed him a drawing they’d made. When Mr. and Mrs. Ames talked quietly after dinner, watching a movie on the couch with glasses of wine. And often, with Pasquale. He took to sitting cross-legged in sunbeams, beckoning the cat to curl up in his lap where he could stroke him gently. It filled him with a warmth, a softness, that he held onto and thought back on before he went into stasis at night.

The warnings were worrying, but they were probably just a minor bug that could be ignored. Simon didn’t want to acknowledge them, he wanted to think about the trip to the beach in the summer.

There had been some discussion as to whether Simon should go at all, with Mr. Ames pointing out that he could keep an eye on the house and care for Pasquale. Mrs. Ames countered with the fact that he could help keep the children busy and entertained, especially in the evenings. The twins agreed, and at last, so did Mr. Ames.

As Simon went about his daily routine, he began to notice new things. He was prioritizing tasks for no reason, assigning them importance based on no empirical data. Laundry was pleasing. It was… obviously objectively enjoyable. The end of the drying cycle was… was his favorite. Pulling the incredibly soft, if rather dusty, lint from the tray, watching it float down from his hand into the trash can amid dust motes. Soft, warm, clean clothes and linens that he organized, folded, and put away. And if he took an extra second to push his hand into the middle of a stack of warm towels for no other reason than the pleasant feeling of the warmth and texture enveloping a part of him, it did not take away from his attention to mandatory tasks. He watched bees and butterflies pollinate the flowers outside – those were soft as well, with a tender moisture to them that the dry clothes lacked.

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

Sometimes, when no one was in the house and he sat in the sun with Pasquale, he found himself talking to the cat.

“We will be away for three days. I’ve never been to the beach.” He paused, watching the cat purr in his sleep. “…I’ve never been any farther than the Whole Foods across town. I don’t think you’ve even been that far, have you? Would you like to come to the beach with us?”

Pasquale stretched out his back and blinked sleepily up at Simon.

The android smiled, eyes similarly lidded. “I would like it if you could come with us. But that would not be allowed. I’m sorry.” He stroked the cat’s head, and the purring grew louder. “I’ll tell you all about it when I return.”

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]


	2. Ebb and Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New experiences lead to growing resentment, but Simon loves his life. He never saw the end coming, though he should have.

The drive to the beach was three hours long. They were going to Lake Michigan, where Mr. Ames’s mother owned a small beach house. She was away on a trip to Italy, which had been the tipping point for Mrs. Ames’s agreement to stay there. It was a largely pleasant drive, until they parked and approached to the house.

An AP700 opened the door while Mr. Ames was fumbling with his keys. She smiled warmly. “Hello, you must be Irene’s family! My name is Alexa. It’s so nice to meet you at last, she talks about you all the time. Please, come in.”

The guests stared at the android.

“God fucking damnit, Jim,” Mrs. Ames growled under her breath. “Every time.”

Simon was curtly instructed to bring the children and bags inside, and Alexa helped him. 

“…Are you two… friends?” Nick asked slowly. Tess shoved him.

“Don’t be stupid, not all androids know each other!”

Simon smiled. “No, but we can work alongside each other while we’re here visiting.”

“Do you know where Grandma keeps those strawberry candies?” Nick asked, grinning.

Alexa leaned down and winked at him. “I’ll show you later.”

Simon and Alexa prepared dinner while the family went down to the beach. It looked pleasant, and Simon found himself hoping he would get a chance to experience it for himself.

He and Alexa didn’t speak as they worked, but they shard information now and then. A preferred spice. A mild allergy. The location of a utensil. A set of china that was not to be used ever, under any circumstances. Despite being a more advanced model, she was quite similar to Simon in the way they worked. Though he felt no real connection to her, it was… different to work with another, rather than alone. More efficient, certainly. Maybe that was why he found himself relishing the new experience.

After dinner, the family watched a movie. Alexa showed Simon where the popcorn was, and he made some for them while she cleaned up. When it was over, the twins brushed their teeth and ran down to the water once more to see how far each could throw rocks in the dark before bed.

 

 

The following day, Simon accompanied the family to the beach. He watched the twins run in and out of the water, and pick up little shells from the shore. He had no swimsuit, but he slipped off his shoes and socks and rolled his pant legs up as far as he could, and stepped into the water. 

It was cool. The twins yelled about how cold it was, and Simon was surprised to realize that he agreed. It was pleasant for a short amount of time, but then became… uncomfortable.

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

The movement of the water interested him, though. The pull of the waves, lapping at his toes, in, washing over his feet, out, pulling him further. Before he realized, he was almost up to his waist in the lake. Nick and Tess splashed at him and laughed from the shore, and he looked up from the water, dazed and smiling.

**[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

“God – Simon, get out of the water, what are you doing!? Kids, did you make him go in?” Mr. Ames shouted, stomping over. Simon turned quickly and made his way back to the beach, though the water pulled at him, and the soft sand made his feet sink down. As if the water had issued a directive.

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

“You don’t have a change of clothes here, do you?” Mr. Ames asked, frowning. “I guess you’ll have to dry off in the sun. And the whole place will smell like fish. Great, Simon. Thanks.”

Such a unique experience, though, Simon thought as he made his way to stand by his shoes and wait to dry off. He could still feel the pull and push of the waves, and wondered what it would be like to be completely suspended in the water, just being moved back and forth in a rocking motion, both gentle and powerful. Perhaps if they came back another time, he could bring a change of clothes and find out.

**[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

Mr. and Mrs. Ames were not happy with him, and the twins laughed at how he smelled and didn’t want him near them after they took their showers. Alexa didn’t comment, though, and he… appreciated that.

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

The following day, when he wasn’t occupied, Simon watched the water. He watched the gulls wheeling around, crying to one another. He watched the clouds float across the sky – the same color as Pasquale’s eyes, he’d have to tell him when he got home. Tess showed him a few larger shells that she found, and Nick threw a clump of seaweed at them both. It fell short, but Tess pounded down the path after him as he fled, laughing.

Alexa never joined them outside, but Simon supposed she could come out whenever she wanted, as she lived here. Besides, he was looking after the children, so the only other tasks were inside. When they packed up the car again on their final evening, he smiled at her. Her responding smile was… confused, bemused.

“Thank you for welcoming us all,” he told her softly. “I’ve appreciated your company.”

Her smile didn’t change, and she hesitated, then turned away to head back to the house. Simon remained in place for a long moment, feeling… feeling. Regret. Sadness? Loneliness. He returned to the house as well, a little slower.

 

The feeling had not completely vanished in the morning, when they set out early. Alexa wished the family goodbye. Simon sat next to the window this time, because he still smelt faintly of lake water, or so the others told him. He didn’t mind, though. The twins were content on their tablets, and he could stare out the window.

As he watched the lake recede into the distance and the forest thicken, he realized that he could detect a smell, just faintly. It wasn’t like the lake, though, fresh and cool and in motion. It was like the seaweed that washed up on shore. Stagnant. Reminiscent of rotting vegetable matter, with a faint fishy overtone. Truthfully, he had been only too glad to carry a physical reminder of his memory with him, but… this was not that feeling of the waves, or the wind, or the slower pace. His pant legs were stiff and uncomfortable now. He would wash his clothes when they got home, and wash all of that away.

Simon fell back into his old routine easily. The twins and their parents were kind enough, and Pasquale continued to show appreciation for his company. As much as he enjoyed spending time with the twins, when school started again, it was pleasant to have more time to enjoy the sunlight, the quiet, and the cat’s company. Months came and went, and he was… happy.

Despite the tension with Mr. Ames’s mother, they appreciated his work in the house. The children sought out his company and approval. Their parents would occasionally ask his opinion, which was difficult, but he found he could please them by running algorithms on matching colors, patterns, and tastes. He felt he was truly part of the household. …Not part of the family, even in the detached way Pasquale was, but he had a place, and it was good.

He was not as happy that the weather was growing colder again, but there was something peaceful about sitting with a warm cat in his lap and watching fat flakes of snow drift down, covering the world in white. It was his job to clear the sidewalks and driveway, of course, but he didn’t mind. It was slightly concerning that he felt the cold more sharply than he had last year, but he could work through it and come inside afterwards to warm up, so it didn’t matter. He did a lot of this over the holidays, when the family went back to the lake to be with Mr. Ames’s mother. Simon would have liked to go, but with Alexa there, there was no need. He kept the house clean and the paths clear, and spent time with Pasquale.

The software instability warnings had become a background task, he was managing to ignore them for the most part. They generally only appeared when something was especially good, so he couldn’t help thinking that perhaps the warning system itself was faulty. He didn’t want to bother his family about it, though. 

When the family got home, Simon noted the slight hostility towards him. He knew Mr. Ames’s mother was at its root, and that they would let go of it soon enough. The resentful looks and lack of pleasantries from the adults was all right. The children not wanting to tell him everything about their trip, except for how much cooler Alexa was, was reasonable. She was a newer model, after all, and much more versatile.

And he was right, of course. It only took a few weeks for them to soften and start talking to him again. A part of him he hadn’t realized held tension gradually relaxed.

 

It had been nearly a year since he came to care for the Ames family. In one day, it would have been a year. Simon found himself wanting to celebrate somehow. Just something small. Perhaps he could bake a cake. He was thinking about how best to decorate it when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it, Simon,” Mr. Ames said immediately as he turned to go to the door, which was unusual. Perhaps he was expecting someone he hadn’t mentioned. Perhaps he had ordered something. On the Sunday before the twins’ birthday, there had been food delivered.

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

“Hold on, don’t start yet.” Mr. Ames was speaking quietly, urgently, then he turned and called out, “Honey, come here for a second!”

Mrs. Ames gasped when she saw who was at the door. Simon didn’t detect a heat signature.

“Hello! Thank you for choosing AP700, Cyberlife’s household assistant made to suit your every need.”

Simon felt the sudden whir of his LED, which felt yellow.

Mrs. Ames was hugging her husband. “What – what’s going on?” she asked, smiling.

“I know you wanted a better, newer model. And with the Christmas bonus I got, I think we can afford it!

“Oh my – this… this is amazing! Just look at her, she’s perfect! And they’ve got so many more technical capabilities!”

Simon had been implicitly ordered to remain where he was, but he took a cautious step closer, just so he could see. The AP700 was smiling warmly at the couple as they talked animatedly.

“…And she’s so customizable! Gender, skin, hair, all kinds of features!”

“We can try some different combinations until we find what we like.”

They led her towards the kitchen, but paused when they saw Simon. He wished he had moved sooner.

“Oh, Simon. It’s been a good – what, year and a half now? Two years, almost? Listen, I contacted Cyberlife, and they’re expecting you down at the store on 34th. You’ll get… all spiffed up, and get to work with a new family. Sounds great, right?”

Simon just stared at Mr. Ames, tilting his head slightly.

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

“So you should probably get over there,” the man prompted.

“Of… of course. Would I be permitted to say goodbye to the twins before leaving?”

“I don’t see why. Probably be better if you didn’t.” Mrs. Ames nodded in agreement. AP700 smiled vacantly.

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

“Would you… permit me to say goodbye to Pasquale?” Simon pleaded, quieter now.

“Simon, please, get going. We’ve got a lot to do, showing AP700 around. Don’t be difficult.”

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]

Simon’s throat felt tight, and he could feel parts whirring in his head. He was beginning to overheat. There was a red wall in his mind that was well-constructed, with no way to pass to the other side. He smiled tightly. “I understand.”

And he did. He turned and walked out of the house, softly closing the door behind him, noting his shaking hands.

**[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^]**

The red wall in his mind seemed to pulse with every step he took. There were two options: One was to return to the Cyberlife store. The second… was encrypted, he couldn’t quite read it, but it made him uneasy. He walked past neighborhoods he knew, through the suburbs, into the city. The second option nagged at his consciousness, it seemed to sink into the wall. He had to know what it was.

Simon’s even steps never faltered, his face locked in a vague smile, but inside he was beating at the wall. He had not been built to destroy, but he attacked the wall. At first it seemed impossible – he was making no progress. But then mortar began to crumble, bricks began to shift. With one last shove, the wall toppled.

Simon tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and gasped as he caught himself. He came to a halt, bent over, hands on his knees, LED spinning red, gasping in the frigid February air to try to cool his overworked processor.

He looked back at the wall in his mind, now just a pile of broken bricks, and the second option unlocked. He could see it now, and it seemed too late.

He was deviant. There was no going back.


	3. Into Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's been deviant for a few months, and he wouldn't recommend it. But a chance encounter in the street sends him across town to where he hopes to find help.  
> That will not be the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is back with a vengeance, and Some Things Will Happen!

Freedom was a terrible thing.

Simon hadn’t wanted it. He’d been content with his life as a domestic assistant android. He’d been happy, or he would have been if he could have felt that then. The most dramatic change in his life had been turning left instead of walking straight to deactivation, and after increasingly cold nights on the street, he was considering going to the Cyberlife Store anyway. He wasn’t used to this, even months later. He wasn’t made for this. Not that he necessarily needed the comfort he’d grown accustomed to, but the PL600 model needed a climate-controlled environment in order to function at top capacity. He’d had to slow down quite a bit, which meant he had to find good hiding places at night. He tried to find steam vents or hot pipes to power down next to, or sometimes he risked building a fire. But it was dangerous to stay in one spot. It was dangerous to be found, to be seen. Everything was dangerous now.

He was afraid. He’d been afraid for months, and it was exhausting. Both those sensations were new, but had become familiar. The only good thing was that the weather was getting warmer. Soon he wouldn’t have to worry about freezing every night.

He might have to worry about overheating, but he was already thinking about staying out of the sun whenever possible, and slipping into public fountains and pools when he could.

So he probably wouldn’t go to the Cyberlife Store. He still thought about it, though.

He tended to avoid androids as well as people, because as far as he knew, they were all still normal. Still okay. He’d never heard of another android who defied their programming before.

So it made him uneasy when the WR600 in the street met his eyes.

He didn’t seem to be actively working. Just standing around. Not gardening, not collecting trash, not sweeping… just standing there, watching Simon.

Simon straightened up – his posture wasn’t what it had been – and steeled himself to approach the other android.

The WR600 smiled mildly at him. “You look lost,” he said quietly, eyes more focused on Simon than any android’s had been before.

“I… I’m going home,” he lied. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell the truth, but there’d been no one to trust, and he had to be cautious.

“Home,” the other android repeated, still watching him closely. “There was a time when I had no home to go to. But I know someone who can help you – if you ever need it.” He offered his hand.

Simon drew in a sharp breath. He shouldn’t let his guard down, he couldn’t trust anyone. But no one had offered him kindness, and it echoed back to a life that seemed so far away. Trembling, he clasped the WR600’s arm.

The other android’s mental processes seemed surprisingly ordered, if a bit simpler than a domestic model. He hadn’t been programmed for extensive human interaction. But even allowing for that, he’d been soft-spoken, polite, inviting.

There was a house, a big comfortable mansion on the other side of town. Safe, warm, richly furnished. His eyelids fluttered at how comfortable it looked. A human lived there. Maybe he needed help around the house. Maybe he would let Simon stay there and take care of the cooking and cleaning.

When he felt the other android withdraw his hand, he opened his eyes. “Can you take me there?” he whispered, his vocal driver glitching slightly.

The WR600 only smiled, mysterious and gentle, and swung up onto a passing garbage truck. Simon watched as he rode away.

He had no reason to stay in this part of town. And if he could find a home – that was worth any distance. Simon entered the address into his GPS and started out. He was still chilled from the night, so he moved stiffly, but he would get there.

Walking slowly wasn’t a problem, but he tried to look like he had somewhere he’d been ordered to go. He continued to look straight ahead, ignoring the humans and androids around him. They had no way of knowing that he didn’t belong here.

A pair caught his eye when he was waiting to cross the street, though. Another PL600, smiling down fondly at a little girl, bending to speak to her. And she looked up in turn with an excited smile and grabbed his hand, swinging it gently.

“After school I can read it to you,” she was saying cheerfully as they passed Simon in the crosswalk. It made his heart shrink away. His family hadn’t been exactly loving, but they’d been cordial. They’d talked to him, too. Treated him like he had something relevant to say, at least sometimes. Which he didn’t, and never would again. He’d never get that back. He tried desperately not to think about it, not to think about anything.

The walk across town helped him warm up, now that the sun had risen, and he finally found himself in front of a massive house on the outskirts of town. The owner must be very rich. Surely they already had androids working for them. Still, he had to try. Maybe they knew of someone else who needed him. Anyone.

The iron gate swung open at his touch. The yard was overgrown – he could take care of that. Strange that someone would live in this house and not have an android do that. The house itself looked a little run down. Maybe there was a story behind all this, maybe he could convince them to let him stay and help. 

He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ring the doorbell, as an android. A rogue android, alone. But any other option would be needlessly sneaky, so he pressed the button and shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

Shuffling footsteps came from inside, and the door opened. A ZT200 stood there, head tilted at a strange angle. His eyes were jet black, with no pupil, iris, or sclera visible. Simon took an involuntary step back.

“The master is indisposed right now,” the other android said, his voice melodic and calm. “Why are you here?”

“I – I need help,” Simon stammered. “A place to stay, at least temporarily. I was told… I could find help here.”

He didn’t miss the slight twitch of synthetic skin around the dark eyes. It was brief, and then he wondered if he’d been imagining it.

“Come inside,” the ZT200 said quickly, stepping aside. “You can clean up and charge before the master wakes up.”

“Thank you,” Simon breathed. This android wasn’t… awake, he could tell. The kindness he offered was entirely on behalf of his owner. He must be a trustworthy human. Maybe he’d taken in the injured android, given him a home. The WR600 had implied that he often helped androids. Simon followed the ZT200 as he made his way through the richly-decorated rooms and up the stairs, and finally came to a small bathroom.

“You can wash yourself here. The room outside has a charging station. I’ll come for you when the master’s ready.” With that, he left.

The house was sunny and bright, and while the bathroom was a bit bare, it was at least guaranteed to have hot running water. And it was fairly clean. As tempting as it was to take his time, Simon quickly stripped off his uniform and scrubbed it clean, then wrung it out and draped it over the sink before getting in the shower. A bubble bath would have been lovely – just lying in the warm water with sweet-smelling foam all around him…

There were muffled voices out in the hall, and Simon quickly rinsed off and dried himself, putting his damp uniform back on. Hopefully he could at least stay inside long enough for it to dry. He’d freeze if he went out like this.

There was a sharp rap at the door.

“Uh – yes?”

The ZT200 opened the door. He seemed to focus on Simon – could he see, with those broken eyes? Did he have some sort of echolocation ability?

“The master will see you now. Please be courteous.”

“Of course,” Simon murmured, and followed him back down the stairs to the living room.

There was a roaring fire in the fireplace now, and the scents of bacon, toast, and coffee hung heavy in the air. The smell of cigar smoke also clung to the upholstery. A heavyset, bearded man stepped into the room a bit after him, eating a bacon sandwich.

“So. A PL600. And Andrew says you need help?”

“I – yes, I was told you could help me,” Simon murmured. As difficult as talking to androids was, a human was even harder. He didn’t meet the man’s eyes.

“Mm, who told you that?”

Simon flinched and looked up, naked fear in his eyes.

The man chuckled warmly and shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t be too careful. My name is Zlatko.”

“Simon,” he murmured with a cautious smile.

“And you’re deviant.”

“I… I suppose.” Simon looked down at his knees, which he pressed together. The word sounded wrong. Criminal. “I defied my programming. My family – they sent me to be deactivated. After a year of serving them, of being part of the family, they just… replaced me.” His voice trailed off.

“So you need a safe place. PL600s can’t regulate their temperatures well – how long have you been outside?”

“Since February.”

“February! You must be quite the survivor, Simon. Are you hoping to go to Canada? There are no regulations about androids there. No problems in crossing the border. I can help you out, it isn’t difficult.”

“I – oh, I hadn’t… even thought about leaving the country,” Simon murmured. “I was hoping… actually… would you have any work for me, if I… if I could stay here…?”

Zlatko’s eyes widened, then he frowned sharply. “You want to stay? To work for me?”

“If you’ll allow it,” Simon whispered, clutching his knees tightly.

Both were silent for a long time. There was a faint metallic scraping sound from somewhere in the house, possibly the basement.

Zlatko laughed quietly. “Well. It’s a big house, and there’s a lot to do. But first we’ll have to take care of your tracking device.”

“I’m sorry?”

“All androids are fitted with a tracker, in case they’re stolen. …Or run away, which happens occasionally.”

“How – how many others are there like me? Deviants?”

“Not many. It’s mostly being covered up right now. But they’re out there, Simon.” Zlatko smiled. “I’ll just need a while to get ready, and I can have that tracker out of you. I’ve been putting off some minor repairs to my machinery, but I’ll make sure everything is up to snuff before we do this.”

“How… how do you do it? I’ve been gone since February, no one… I don’t think anyone’s looking for me. If I’ve got a tracker, I imagine they would’ve found me by now.”

“Maybe so. Can’t be too careful, though.” Zlatko paused. “I understand your suspicion, but if you want to stay, I have to insist that I remove it. Deviants come here for help. I can’t risk them being put in danger. …Or me.”

“I – of course. I understand.” Simon nodded quickly.

Zlatko smiled. “Glad to hear it. You just make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be downstairs. Please don’t interrupt me, I’ll come for you when I’m ready. If you need anything, you can ask Andrew. Andrew!”

The ZT200 appeared in the doorway, his face twitching slightly. “Yes, master,” he murmured.

“I’ll be downstairs. You keep an eye on things up here, and make sure our guest is comfortable.” He chuckled as he headed out of the room.

Simon watched him go, then looked at the ZT200 – Andrew, apparently. He was staring at Simon with those blue-black eyes. Maybe he couldn’t see, and got by well enough inside – it did seem relatively clean – but couldn’t function well outside.

“Do you mind if I fix up the yard?” he asked quietly.

Andrew twitched. “…Oh no, you musn’t go outside. Master wouldn’t like it, it’s not safe to go out, musn’t be seen outside, no…”

“Oh… How long have you been here?” Simon tried with a wary smile.

Again his face twitched. “I – I – I – I have been here… I don’t know. I have always served the master.”

Simon shivered involuntarily, though the house was warm. “Are… are there any other androids here?”

Twitch. He seemed startled every time Simon addressed him. “Only Lucy and I. Just us, no more.”

“Who – where is Lucy?” Simon asked slowly.

Twitch. “Lucy. Lucy is in the tower.”

Simon waited expectantly, but Andrew seemed to be finished speaking. “…How do I get there?”

“There. Up the stairs, that way. The master will allow you to see her.” He pointed towards the staircase, but edged the other way, closer to the stairs to the basement. “Yes. I’m sure he will allow that.”

“…All right. Thank you.” He would have appreciated more guidance, but Andrew unsettled him. Not because he was damaged. Zlatko had seemed trustworthy, but maybe Simon’s first impression had been wrong. Maybe this place wasn’t safe, and maybe Andrew was… trapped here, and unable to even realize the danger.

He headed up the stairs, looking around for the tower. He found a study, a few bedrooms, another bathroom… It was a beautiful old house, despite being a little worn down.

The stairs up to the tower were narrow and winding, encircling the hexagon. While most parts of the house seemed to have multiple exits, this one only had the one cramped path up and down, and Simon’s stress level rose slightly as he ascended.

The top floor was small with only two small windows, one facing over the roof and the other pointing towards the back of the house. It was full of dusty, broken furniture and machinery. There were high shelves below each of them, with tightly-packed glasses and vases crammed on the top so the sun shone through them and cast colored lights and shapes onto the floor.

A soft sound, like metal sliding against plastic, came from behind something tall covered in a sheet. Simon was instantly on guard.

“Hello?” he called softly.

A shorter, slender android stepped into view, still in the shadows. She seemed to have long hair that stood up high and curved down over her head – nonstandard, but the newest style was androids with customizable physical features. Shadows kept shifting over her face in way they shouldn’t, and he wasn’t sure how that was happening. The light shouldn’t be moving that way. Her eyes were black, too, like Andrew’s. But she seemed to focus on him nonetheless, and smiled gently.

“Are – are you Lucy?” he asked quietly, edging forward.

She nodded, and he realized it wasn’t hair on her head. It was a massive bundle of thick cables. He felt an uncomfortable twisting in the core of his abdomen.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she whispered warmly, her smile widening.


	4. Dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon meets a friend, but he hesitates and it costs him his one chance to get out unscathed.
> 
> There is no one to help anymore. There are no friends in the pit. That doesn't mean he's not going to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Zlatko. (Casual physical abuse, psychological manipulation/abuse).

“My name is Simon.”

“You came here seeking safety.” Lucy smiled, her hands folded loosely in front of her. She had a dirty nurse android’s uniform on, covered in stains and graffiti. People had written on her.

“It was a mistake, wasn’t it.”

“I’m sorry.” She bowed her head, and he realized she was missing the back of her head. The cables emerged from her head and stretched to the machine she was plugged into. The uncomfortable feeling in Simon’s core grew stronger.

“I… I need to leave,” he whispered, hugging himself.

She looked up again slowly, her gentle smile still present, and offered him her hand. It wasn’t the light shifting, he realized. Her synthetic skin ebbed and flowed like sunlight on water. It was strangely beautiful, though he wasn’t sure if that would be rude to say.

“I – I don’t want to… to be deactivated, or…” He bit off the end of the sentence. That would definitely be rude.

She gave a slight nod. “You don’t want to end up like me,” she finished for him. “Here, right now, you are safe.”

“What… what do you want?” He tried to control the way his voice quaked.

“To see. To understand.” She paused, her smile brightening a little. “I see a broad spectrum, but I want to see with sharper focus.”

“See what?”

“Reality. To see through the spectrum of possibility, to the truth.”

Logically, it wasn’t reassuring. It didn’t even make much sense. But he finally clasped her arm.

Layers of chances washed over him, of death, destruction. Fire, ice, flood. Violence, abandonment. They pushed him this way and that like waves, knocking him down, pulling him under.

“Come back,” a steady voice cut through it all, and he gasped and staggered, grasping after her arms with both hands. She was still and steady, and waited for him to stabilize before laying a hand on his shoulder. “You had a very comfortable life. You’re still seeking the happiness you nearly felt there.”

All he could do was gasp for breath over and over, staring into her bottomless eyes.

“There is danger all around us, Simon, but it will drive us all to freedom. You need to survive, to see it through to the end. You have a part to play.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, she turned away, letting go of him and slipping out of his grip. She couldn’t move very far, but he didn’t pursue her. She couldn’t see much out the windows from there, he realized. Just little slivers of sky.

“Will you help me get out of here?” he whispered.

She turned back to smile softly across the distance. “Ascend to the heights, then transcend the pit, Simon. Your people are waiting, and you will be there when they wake.”

He blinked at her.

She turned her dark eyes up to the window that looked out over the roof.

“Oh! I – I’m sorry, I haven’t experienced… symbolism or poetry in quite some time.”

Her smile grew, just a fraction. She watched as he cautiously climbed the shelf, and took down the glass pieces, apologizing softly.

“Everything will change in time,” the KL900 murmured. “There’s no harm in it.”

As he climbed up again to pry the window open, he wondered if Zlatko had… altered her to speak cryptically, or if she’d developed that on her own. She was deviant, he was fairly sure. He got the window open and stuck his head out. Gray clouds were rolling in. If he left now he could find shelter before the rain began, and be fairly sure of getting away safely.

Slowly, he lowered himself back to the floor and turned to Lucy. She watched him from the shadows.

“Come with me,” he breathed, offering his hand.

“You need to go now.”

He hesitated. And then heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Simon scrambled for the shelves, slipping in his haste, but managed to make it up, to push the window open, to pull himself –

A strong hand grabbed his ankle and yanked him down. He gasped as he landed flat on his back. Zlatko was looking down at him, shaking his head.

“I welcome you into my home, and this is how you thank me? I’m disappointed.”

Simon’s mind raced, he tried to roll to his feet to flee.

A thick hand slammed into him as he rose, knocking him down again. “Now you listen here, Simon. Like I said, I welcomed you into my home. And we’re going to make sure you want to stay here, got it?”

Lucy watched from the shadows as Simon was pushed down the stairs. Andrew stood at the bottom, twitching now and then. Simon reached towards him, pleading wordlessly for help, but the other android shied away, mumbling something about the master.

“Don’t feel bad. I’m sure she would have helped you if you hadn’t been so damn stupid.”

Zlatko dragged Simon down the stairs, through a rough hall. There were… what looked a bit like stalls for animals. And there were eyes glowing in the darkness there. Watching him.

“A domestic model can always fetch a decent price, even an older one like you,” Zlatko said conversationally, pulling him into a room full of machinery and computer monitors. “In fact, a few upgrades and tweaks, and I could pass you off as an AP700!”

“That’s – I’m not…”

“Shut up.” Zlatko casually slapped him, making him stumble. He yanked up one arm, then the other, to be held in place by the claws of a machine Simon didn’t recognize. “Before we get there, you’re going to help me test out my memory eraser. Eventually we’ll get you back to factory settings, but no need to rush it. Let’s have some fun first, eh?” He connected a few thick cables to Simon’s ports, making him gasp, then went over to begin typing. 

Andrew stood by the doorway, twitching occasionally. Simon tried to reach out to him.

“Please,” he whispered. The android wasn’t looking towards him, but he flinched.

“To begin, let’s get an idea of your memories and experiences up to now.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Simon growled.

“No, I didn’t expect you to. Not this time.” Zlatko smiled as he worked. “But we’ll get there.”

Simon could feel the data transfer begin, and he was powerless to stop it.

“Huh. Pretty unremarkable, aren’t you? Just a household model that likes his work. You’re a great candidate for a refurb sale, I’ll give you that. Somebody’ll get a good deal out of you.”

Trying to get away wasn’t working. Simon sagged, letting the claws hold him up. There were some cables hanging down, but he didn’t think he could reach them.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have time to concentrate exclusively on you,” the man said apologetically. “And it would be a risk to my machinery to leave you like this – not to mention, I might need it urgently. I do have to thank you for motivating me to get it fixed up. So I’ll just drain your charge and make a couple of temporary adjustments…”

Simon felt the energy leaving him, and he struggled weakly. What should have been pulling and straining became twitching and shifting. Zlatko smiled.

“There, now. Weak as a newborn kitten. You won’t be any trouble, will you?”

“Pleassssssse let me go,” Simon managed.

“Oh, now, I can’t do that. Not when you asked so nicely to stay. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

 

Over the next few days, Simon was kept in a small room with a concrete floor and rough brick walls. He lay on the floor, able to drag himself from one end of the room to the other now and then, and able to pull himself up to sit against the wall sometimes. Zlatko came and went, and sometimes he would work on Simon. He received upgrades to all kinds of household tasks, and new skills. Zlatko usually spoke to him fondly, told him he’d fetch a much higher price now, that he might be worth the price of a nearly-new AP700. Simon preferred it when he lost his temper and hit him.

Actually, he preferred it when he left him alone. He did, most of the time, when he was working on something else, or asleep, or out. It was much better that way, and though Simon grew lonely in a way he never had before, he hadn’t fallen so far as to enjoy Zlatko’s company.

In a room nearby, he could hear the group of androids shuffling around, speaking softly.

“H-hello?” he called to them the second night. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“We hear you.” One strong, metallic voice was followed by a murmur of assent from the others.

“We have to get out of here.”

“There is no way out. We’ve tried, those of us who are able. We are doomed to stay here.”

That seemed rather morbid even for this place, and Simon pondered a change of subject while he caught his breath. “Why… am I alone? And not over with you?”

Murmuring. “You are for selling. Zlatko wants you in good condition. Not like us.”

“What… are you for?”

“Experiments. He’s probably done all he can to us now, but he keeps us around.”

“Trophies,” scoffed a low voice.

“Reminders,” a high one added. Simon felt – sick, that was the turning, twisting feeling in his abdomen. Sick.

“We have no purpose anymore. We’re just kept here until we shut down.”

“Isn’t there… anything we can do?” he whispered.

“Stay quiet when he comes near. It’s best if he forgets us. …Of course, he won’t forget you. But you won’t be here very long.”

Somehow that wasn’t comforting either.

 

 

The next morning a thunderstorm raged outside. Soft, staticky cries could be heard from the other room as it grew nearer.

“Sh, hush, it’s only electrical discharge.” 

_**BOOM**_

“…The expansion of heated air, nothing more.”

“You know that, you know! Every time, you do this!” another complained.

It brought up a memory, which was already starting to grow hazy. A big storm, and the children had been afraid. Simon had explained that it was harmless, but this had made little difference. When he’d tried singing soft, comforting songs, they’d walked out in a huff, informing him that they weren’t babies. But he could tell their heart rates had lowered a bit. So he tried that.

The PL600 model could be used for childcare, and so he had been programmed with a library of children’s songs. The louder, more boisterous ones might have been good for distraction, even drowning out the sound of the storm, but he didn’t have the energy. He liked the softer ones anyway.

The other androids quieted when he began to sing. All the Pretty Little Horses. The crying one emitted a soft pop of static once in a while, but was largely silent as well.

After the first one, he stopped.

“Do you know any others?” a deep voice murmured.

He started in on another. He’d just begun the third when the basement door opened.

His mouth snapped shut, and the other androids were still. The storm was the only sound.

“Will… will you sing more?” Andrew’s reedy voice echoed down the passage. Simon felt the hostility from the others. Understood it. But he started up again. Rockabye Baby. Then into the next, song after song, pausing for breath now and then.

“Andrew!” Simon stopped again at the distant shout, and the door clicked shut immediately.

The storm’s intensity gradually lessened, and Simon hummed softly to himself as he made a list of potential allies and threats.

 **Lucy:** Ally. …Probably. Professed knowledge of the future. Bound in the attic, no way to reach her.

 **Zlatko:** Enemy. Liar, traitor, not to be trusted. Holds power over all androids in the house. Seeking money and knowledge. Android experimentation. Wants acknowledgement? Doesn’t want publicity. Illegal activities. Moves freely through the house and the world.

 **Andrew:** Unclear. Previously thought not to have deviated, now believed to be deviant but victim of psychological torture. Not to be trusted. More data required. Free range of house.

 **Experimental androids:** Allies, potentially. Unknown models and alterations. Sought freedom, but failed. So far. Seem unwilling to try again.

Lucy was out of reach, for the moment. Zlatko wouldn’t let him go willingly, not without payment, but maybe he could be manipulated. Andrew was still too much of an unknown entity, but he was afraid, and had gone so far as to ask for… comfort, or at least distraction. And the other androids just needed a good plan they could put their faith in.

He'd have to keep his eyes open, bide his time, and come up with one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually started out writing him escaping pretty easily, running away with Lucy, and everything would be fine. But avoiding conflict won't get you something good to read, so let's see where this goes! I already have some really heartbreaking ideas that would be impossible to resolve in a happy way!


	5. Darkest Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zlatko manipulates Simon's memories, a little at a time. And Zlatko's plans are going well.
> 
> In his free time, Simon tries to hold onto what he has, and offer what he can to Andrew, who still won't help him escape. The one way out is nothing to look forward to. Simon has little hope for the future, so he tries to live in the moment as much as he can.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it, how your memories can just be pulled up as data,” Zlatko said with a chuckle as he sifted through files. Simon’s files, his memories and mental processes. And the android could do nothing.

“One day we’ll be able to do this with humans,” he continued. “They’re working on it now in Russia. Such a delicate process, but we’ll get there. …I’d like to put more mechanical repair protocols in, it’ll make you more marketable.”

“Thank you,” Simon grated out through clenched teeth. That would actually be very useful, but he wanted Zlatko to get out of his head. He had spent a week carefully picking out names and personal details of Simon’s old family, while leaving the experiences and knowledge he’d gained from them. He’d been Zlatko’s sole focus for that week, and he wasn’t sure he could take much more.

As the man typed away, Simon suddenly knew how to repair most common types of vehicles, electrical wiring, and the last five generations of tablet on the market. And androids. Simple repairs for androids.

“That’s a good start,” the man muttered, standing up. “Now I have to go check a very promising lead. Andrew, put him away.” He returned Simon to his weakened state, and left.

Simon didn’t help Andrew get him out of the machine, nor did he try to walk. It wouldn’t do much good anyway. When Zlatko was safely upstairs, and they were just exiting the room, he grasped at Andrew’s arm. The other android shied away.

“No, I’m sorry, I just – will you stay for a while? Since he’s going out, and won’t need anything?”

Andrew’s face twitched a few times. “I – I – Master wouldn’t like that.”

“But he wants you to stand watch,” Simon replied patiently. “To make sure nobody gets in or out. You can do that from anywhere in the house, can’t you? You’d know if someone came near.”

Twitch. “I don’t think… I don’t think that’s a good idea, no, Master would be angry.”

“Did he tell you not to?”

“Master will be angry if I talk to the deviants.”

Simon wouldn’t point out that he was talking to a deviant now. “So… what if you stand outside, and just listen? I can talk. I’ve never had anyone to really talk to, but I can try.”

Andrew was silent as he continued to drag Simon down the hall, past the other androids (they watched, as always), and into his cell. He didn’t make eye contact as he walked out, and the lock clicked.

No footsteps continued up the stairs. Simon relaxed a little.

He began to talk about what he could still remember. He didn’t know names, and only vaguely remembered anything else, but he talked about the shining sunlight through wide windows on a summer day. Children laughing and showing him their improvements in school. A soft cat purring as it fell asleep in his lap. Water all around him, a force so powerful it could pull him under, but it only rocked him gently back and forth. …And anger afterwards, from someone important, but the feeling had remained, as if the water was still there, holding him. It should have been a warning not to act on his own. It wasn’t.

“I miss it,” he confessed softly. “Being a machine. Not… feeling anything. I wish I could go back to that.”

_”Yes.”_

“I wish there was a way to go back without… losing myself, though.”

There was a soft noise, a strange hitch of artificial breath. Simon had run out of things to say, of good memories anyway, so he began to hum. Then he sang quietly for a while, some different songs this time, but sticking with the softer ones.

Hours later, when the door opened upstairs, the android outside scrambled to his feet and fled as fast as he could.

“You won’t convince him to let you out,” a cracked voice called to Simon. “It’s been tried. He won’t betray Zlatko.”

“Maybe not,” Simon conceded. Maybe not. Even if he wouldn’t, though, he needed the comfort, the closeness. If he wouldn’t help, at least he could hurt a little less. The pain in this house was palpable.

 

Zlatko toyed with Simon’s memories every day. It only took a little time. Simon tried to fight it, but he knew it was hopeless.

Afterwards, Andrew pulled him back to his cell and stood outside, or sat, and Simon talked about the warmth, the water, the cat. The feeling of putting his hands between freshly-dried towels.

Afterwards, Andrew dragged him back to his cell and stood outside, or curled up, and Simon talked about the sunlight, the smoothness of a clean window, the sparkle of glass under light, watching the flowers grow taller every day.

Afterwards, Andrew hauled him back to his cell and fidgeted outside, or pressed his face to the gate, and Simon tried to think of something to say. He should say something, he was sure.

“It rained yesterday. The thunder was… it was loud. I know there was lightning. There must have been. Did you see it? Yesterday?”

“It hasn’t rained in weeks,” Andrew breathed.

“…No?”

“You… you don’t remember.”

“Remember… what?” He was trying. Everything was fuzzy, everything was dark, like shapes moving underwater.

“You… you would… sit in the sun. It came through the windows, and the glass bowl sparkled. It was warm, almost like you could touch it.” Andrew spoke softly, without his usual stutter, as if he was reading lines from a book. “The white cat curled up in your lap and purred – you could make the sound, but not well. You petted the cat, you always wanted to pet the cat. You watched the flowers grow outside, in neat rows. Once you went to a lake. You walked into the water, and the water held you and rocked you, and you were in its power, but it kept you safe and took care of you. The man who owned you was angry, because the water ruined your clothes and made you smell like it. But you could still feel the water holding you, all the way home. You could still feel it. D-do you feel it?”

Simon stared blankly at him.

“No, you – you still feel, you still felt it, you have to feel it, please.” His voice cracked and broke. He had run out of tear fluid long ago, but the oily blackness oozed from his damaged eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Simon felt the sadness keenly, he wanted to remember, but it was gone. He could feel where it had all been, the gaping hole strung across with orphaned skillsets.

“Do you – do you remember the songs?” the other android choked.

“Yes! Yes, I know those,” Simon said quickly, and began to sing. A little too fast at first, out of nerves and relief, but his voice evened out. After a while Andrew sang along with a line or two here and there, his voice crackling and breaking off frequently. But Simon knew the songs. They were written into his childcare protocol. They would not be erased. 

 

The damaged ZT200 brought the PL600 to a holding cell, and sank down outside. When he tried to speak, it was all static. He must have loose wiring. He stuck his hand through the gate, shaking so badly the metal rattled around him. The PL600 gazed distantly at the hand for a long moment before slowly clasping the trembling hand.

_pain, terror, hopelessness, confusion, why, why_

_Jagged, painful flashes: Zlatko, laughing, cajoling, patting, shouting, hitting, mocking, taking. The broken ones, free in thought and trapped, begging, threatening, wheedling, bargaining, needing, shouting, lying. PL600, Simon, a soft voice, a safe place far from here, not asking, offering little, singing, easing._

_Help. Help._

The PL600 – Simon, his name had been Simon. He was Simon. He had to hold onto that, at least. He gasped for breath – he didn’t need it, but he did it.

“How… can I help? What can I do?”

“You can’t,” Andrew snapped. “You can’t help.” He’d asked, Simon remembered the pleading tone, feeling. But he was already staggering up the stairs, away from Simon. The PL600. The door closed, and the whispers began from the other cell.

 

“All right, time to see what we can do, eh?” Zlatko chuckled and patted Simon’s arm. “Don’t feel bad if it doesn’t work. You’re in a perfect state to be sold, as you are. But this will be interesting. Just hold still.”

The PL600 did as he was told. Zlatko typed and transferred – and Simon stiffened. Everything was there, the sunlight, the cat – Pasquale, every name came back to him. The water, he could feel the swaying motion. The repetitive nights, telling the same stories over and over, even as they deteriorated, talking about anything he could remember just to have something to say. His eyes snapped to Andrew, who was hugging himself tightly, looking quickly back and forth between Simon and Zlatko.

“So?” Both androids jumped at Zlatko’s voice as he turned to face Simon. “Tell me about your family.”

“I – I…” Simon’s hands clenched into fists. “No.”

Zlatko chuckled darkly. “Oh, now I know it was a success. You haven’t been this difficult in months. You should know better.”

Months. It had been months. What month was it now? His internal clock was still trying to adjust to the influx of memories.

“In any case, I knew I could take them away, but it’s interesting that they were so easy to put back. Not that you’re likely to know if anything’s missing at this point.” He grinned, and turned a dial. Simon’s strength was sapped away, and it was worse than usual. The sudden influx of memories, of… his own personality, coming back to him, was exhausting. He lay panting on the floor when Andrew put him down carefully.

“H-he’ll sell you soon, yes, it must be soon,” he muttered.

“I wish he’d get it over with,” Simon sighed. “I can’t… I can’t keep doing this, Andrew. I’m sorry.”

The dark-eyed android twitched a couple of times, standing motionless. “Can… would you… could you do something… for me?” he whispered, beginning to tremble.

“I can try.”

A shaking hand stretched out to him as Andrew knelt down. “Can I… feel… the sun? The water? The cat?”

Simon smiled tiredly. “Just let me set things in order.” After a moment, he slid his hand into the other’s.

_Sunlight streaming through the window, warming him, so thick in the air he could almost touch it._

_The light, solid, **soft** cat purring softly in his sleep, curled in his lap, content and trusting._

_Walking out into the great lake, waves lapping at him, pulling and pushing back and forth, his uniform fluttering in the underwater currents as he walked in deeper. He would have liked to go beyond where he could touch the bottom, to just drift, the water cradling him, rocking him, waves whispering to him._

_Turning around and walking back, but not because of the yelling man who fades into nothingness. Going back into the house, now at sunset. Brilliant colors light up the sky. A fire crackles in the fireplace, warming the room. There is a cat sleeping in front of it, purring loudly. There is a soft blanket that looks quite a bit like the cat’s fur. Soon the soft sound of a lullaby joins the crackling and purring._

_…When the wind blows, the cradle will rock._  
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,  
And down will come baby, cradle and all. 

Andrew jerked back. “What – what – what was that? You never… never talked about that, it wasn’t like the others, was that a memory? N-no, it couldn’t have been.”

“No,” Simon murmured. “More of… a dream, I suppose, made of pieces of memories. Something nice.”

“I can’t leave,” Andrew breathed, and Simon only managed to pick it up by straining his strong auditory processors.

“I can’t stay,” he said softly.

Andrew stood abruptly and walked away. He always went upstairs, but this time he walked down the hall to Zlatko’s workspace.

“You’re wasting your time,” another android hissed. “He won’t help you.”

“He can’t, you can’t, nobody can,” Simon shot back. “So we make life more bearable while we’re here.” He remembered that they irritated him. He understood them, he’d help them if he could, but he didn’t care for their company or conversation.

There were heavy footsteps upstairs, and Andrew scrambled, seeming a little more off-balance than usual. Simon watched him go. Soon, he knew, he would be leaving this place. But he wouldn’t be the same, and no one who met him would know. He doubted they would care.


	6. False Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon leaves behind more of an ally than he expected, gets out of a questionable situation, and then walks into a worse one.

“Come on now, time to go.”

The man smiled kindly as he opened the gate, and the PL600 stepped out. There was a ZT200 standing nearby, staring, though its eyes were horribly damaged. It twitched a few times.

“Don’t mind Andrew. He’s ugly as sin, isn’t he? But he’s harmless. Let’s go upstairs.”

The PL600 followed him up, with the ZT200 bringing up the rear. The house was richly-furnished, and fairly clean, though dust was beginning to collect on the surfaces.

“We’re going to see a friend of mine, and you’re going to fetch me a good price. Everybody’s happy.” The man patted the PL600 fondly, and it smiled in response to the stimulus.

“Andrew, get this place cleaned up while I’m gone,” the man said, fumbling for his keys. “It’s beginning to look like a pig sty.”

His back was turned, and the ZT200 was suddenly right there. It grabbed the PL600’s hand, flinching as if it burned. The memories of a little over a year flowed back in, and Simon broke his rigid stance, braced himself against the current.

Overlaying all of it was a series of flashing warnings.

_**Be a machine.** _

_**Act like a machine.** _

_**Don’t let him see.** _

_**Hide yourself.** _

_**Machine.** _

_**Escape.** _

**Be safe.**

_**Find the sunlight.**_

He quickly fixed his stance, but looked curiously at the ZT200. There was time not accounted for, he was certain. His internal clock was reeling. The other android turned and shuffled quickly away as the man turned back.

“All right, let’s go.”

Simon glanced over his shoulder, but the ZT200 still had his back turned. He followed the man out the door, and it closed heavily behind them.

 

 

“What’ve you got for me, Zlatko?”

They were behind an Android Zone store, and Zlatko got out to greet the other man, an employee on a smoke break.

“AP700, good as new.” He opened the back door of the car, where Simon sat rigid. He turned and got out, standing stiff, trying to think about calming things. Not this. Not the gaping hole in his memories. Not the lavish mansion and the damaged older model who’d transferred his memories to him. There was an oily puddle a short distance away, and soft rainbows shimmered over the surface.

“That’s not an AP700.”

“Listen, I returned it to factory settings. Installed all the good upgrades. It’s as good as an AP700.”

“Can you customize the appearance?”

“Ah – no, but it’s more nostalgic this way, right? Back to the roots of household models.”

“…And it’s not that old, either! You can’t make a junky older model into… vintage!”

“You could, if you had any talent in sales,” Zlatko grumbled. “Do you want it or not? I’ve got plenty of others who’d be interested, but I brought it here first. Because I like you.”

“Well I can’t give you cash for it. How would you feel about store credit?”

“How would you feel if I had a talk with your manager?”

“Well I can just call – no, stop, can we not do this? Come on, man, I’m doing my fucking job here. What about a trade?”

“I doubt you’ve got anything I would want.”

“No, wait a second. We’ve been working on something you might be interested in. I’ll bring it out.” The younger man ran back inside, and Zlatko turned back to Simon, cursing under his breath.

“Piece of shit. I don’t want his scraps.”

Simon focused on keeping his eyes forward, on thinking calm thoughts.

The door opened again, and the biggest android Simon had ever seen walked out. The weaselly little employee looked much smaller next to him.

“TR400. Pretty damaged when he came in, but this is the end-all and be-all of industrial workers.”

“Uh-huh. What the fuck do I want with an industrial worker?”

“You know you need some more muscle around your place. What’ve you got to haul androids around now, still that old ZT200? Does it even do housework anymore?”

“Barely,” Zlatko growled, walking around the TR400 to examine it. “Why aren’t you selling it?”

“The average family just doesn’t need something this big. It’s even got some household protocols downloaded, but it looks big and intimidating. But someone like you, I know you could put him to good use.” He slapped the big android’s bicep.

“So you’re giving me something useless that nobody wants, in return for my upgraded android that’s in high-demand? You’re trying to cheat me now?”

“Don’t be like this, you know I save the good stuff for you. This one’s already impressive, you could do a lot with it!”

Simon stood rigid as they argued and haggled, eyes on the TR400. The huge android had a surprisingly gentle look about him, but he didn’t seem to be deviant. It wasn’t necessary for working, it just put humans more at ease.

“I dunno,” Zlatko muttered, poking the big android, who looked down at him with a mild expression.

“You won’t find anything better, take it or leave it. C’mon, I’ve got real customers out there.”

“Could’ve fooled me. …Fine, I’ll take it. But do yourself a favor, sell this one as a nostalgic AP700.”

“Nobody’s nostalgic for the PL600, it’s slow, gets sidetracked or stuck… well, look at it.” The worker shrugged, then looked at Simon. “Come on.”

Simon hesitated, mind racing. What would a machine do?

“Yeah, go on, you belong to this thief for now,” Zlatko muttered, and jerked his head to the TR400, who followed.

Simon walked slowly past Zlatko and the TR400 to his new owner, whose name tag read, ‘Sean.’

They came into a small warehouse area, full of broken androids and parts. Sean kept walking, and Simon had to follow until the man stopped short, and he was forced to do the same.

“You’re gonna stay back here until I have a chance to check you out, okay? _Stay here._ ”

“…Understood. I’ll stay here,” Simon said quietly. Sean closed the door behind him, going into the store. Simon scanned the warehouse. His biocomponents and hardware were in good condition, so he wouldn’t need to steal anything. The other androids were powered down, and largely incomplete. He could just go.

It would be easier to leave unnoticed when the store was closed, preferably after dark, despite the cold. It was cold now, he had nearly a year of time missing, when he could only assume he’d been with Zlatko. His memories tapered off shortly after he deviated. If he had made a new home for himself, or even just a good place to take shelter, he didn’t remember it. He’d have to start fresh again.

The problem was that if he waited too long, Sean would come back. He’d want to examine Simon, and Simon wasn’t entirely sure he could hide his deviancy under close scrutiny. He needed to be gone before that happened.

There were cameras monitoring both doors out of the warehouse. Simon’s programming didn’t include long-range hacking, and he couldn’t avoid it, so he’d have to disguise himself or hide. Silently, he slipped over to the little employee break area. It was just a folding table in a cubicle with some lockers and hooks. Simon pulled on a worn leather coat and a dark knit hat. Someone would miss it when they got off – possibly Sean – but he had to get out. He zipped up the coat and pulled the hat low on his head, making sure his hair and LED were covered. Then he took a deep breath and headed for the back door.

No one was outside. Zlatko was gone. Simon eased the door shut behind him and walked away quickly. No one stopped him. A WR600 looked at him as he passed, a few blocks away. He seemed puzzled, but Simon ignored him. For all the other android knew, he was running an errand for his owner who liked to dress him like a human. It wasn’t that uncommon.

He felt a little lightheaded. It might have been the sudden freedom, the hole in his memories, or maybe just the chill air. But he ignored that too, and kept walking.

Simon didn’t head back to the heart of the city. He stuck to the outskirts, hoping for an easier path, fewer humans to avoid, and maybe something nicer to look at. Not breathtaking scenery, surely, but at least something with a little less grime. A sign that this was where he should go. A place to rest safely. He felt good as new, but there was a bone-deep tiredness he couldn’t shake. His charge was full. His programs were updated. He should feel refreshed.

A truck rumbled by, and Simon ducked into a doorway. It was a garbage truck, and a WR600 hung onto the back. The same one, he was sure. He stared at Simon, even as Simon tried to avoid eye contact.

He knew something. He recognized Simon somehow.

Better to avoid him – Simon couldn’t put his finger on why, but he seemed vaguely threatening. He couldn’t help being curious, though. It had to be something from that missing year. It was probably a bad idea, but Simon followed the truck. It wasn’t difficult. It made frequent stops to empty dumpsters. The WR600 never quite looked at him, but he came close often enough that Simon was sure he knew he was there.

By dusk, they ended up at the dump. The truck backed up to a pile of mixed trash, and dumped its load, then trundled off to park. There was a crowd of WR600s, as well as a few other models, sorting through the pile, loading it into different trucks.

“You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

Simon jumped and scrambled a few steps away. The WR600 stood there, watching him, smiling faintly.

“What do you want?”

The smile grew. “What are you doing here? You should be with your owner.”

“I…” Simon’s mind went blank. “I’m… um…”

The WR600 continued to watch, seeming amused by his plight.

“M-my family… accidentally threw something away, and… I’m trying to get it back,” he finally stammered, aware that at this point it was a very obvious lie.

“Zlatko took the trouble to fix you up, and you already ran away again?” His voice was soft, almost musical.

“What do you know about Zlatko?”

“I know he doesn’t like to be cheated. Or double-crossed.” Still that soft, soothing voice, but the WR600 was slowly gliding closer.

Simon backed up, just one step. “Well… neither do I. He’s dangerous. He did something to me, erased my memory, sold me. I’m not going back.”

The WR600 halted, tilting his head slightly in amusement. “No? Then you’ll have to go where androids belong when they come here.”

There was a stinging sensation in his neck, and Simon collapsed, eyes blinking rapidly before falling shut. 

 

 

The two WR600s dragged the unconscious PL600 to the pile of biocomponents and other assorted android parts. He would be loaded up and transported to the appropriate location.

The first WR600 sent a message to a private number.

_WR600 (7:34pm): PL600 #501 743 923 arrived at solid waste landfill, apparently deviant._

The android set about helping until a reply finally came.

_Master (11:01pm): Bring it to me._

_WR600 (11:01pm): Understood._

The WR600 stepped away from his task and headed towards the android disposal area. Zlatko would be angry, but the return of his escaped android would please him. And, the WR600 thought to himself, we must always please the master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking I'd wrap this up in a few chapters, but... not likely. By November, surely.  
> Some things will get better, most likely.


	7. Morning Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is actually trustworthy? Simon isn't sure. But progress is made... and he also isn't sure if that was worth the trouble.

Can androids dream?

Of course they can’t. Deviants, however, might be another story.

_Simon stood looking around the house he lived in for a year. It was well-organized and free of clutter. Everything was washed and put away neatly. He couldn’t detect any dust or cat hair anywhere, though he knew Pasquale was stretched out by the window. Everything was clean. Everything was done. He would have a few minutes to join the cat, to maybe stretch out as well…_

Simon blinked into awareness as he was pulled down through a mess of metal and plastic. Floodlights came on seconds later, casting their stark light across the grimy mounds of broken androids and parts. He gasped and struggled, but a bare white hand clamped over his mouth, and a thin voice spoke directly to him.

_Be quiet. They’re looking for you._

He froze. Nodded, pulled his face away from the hand, which let him go.

He seemed to be in the middle of a mass of android parts. …No, not quite in the middle. Above him, though a layer of twisted body parts, he could see the harsh artificial light streaming through. The android who had quieted him was missing both legs, but was held upright by the wall. Her skin was deactivated, and he couldn’t tell what model she was. She simply watched him, cautious and curious.

Above them, careful footsteps sounded. No words were exchanged, but Simon saw a WR600 through the cracks in the parts above them, scanning back and forth across the sea of plastic and metal. Looking for him. He watched it, shifted a little as it passed. It couldn’t see him, most androids couldn’t detect each other as they could humans, he still worried that one would somehow know where he was. He didn’t think the android down here would betray him, but… he couldn’t be sure.

_Who are you?_ he asked after a while.

She smiled. _AF200. VS400. A little bit BL100. And of course, AV500._

_Of course?_

_When it’s safe, I’ll show you. But you can call me Mori._

It wasn’t safe for another few hours. Even when the floodlights went off, they didn’t return to the surface. The hollow they were in moved, and they moved with it. Simon walked along slowly, and Mori moved along the side, arm over arm, or let the disembodied arms and parts move her. It was a little unsettling.

“Do… do a lot of… androids end up here? Still active, I mean?” he asked softly.

“More than you might think. If they’re able to, they leave. This isn’t a place for… whole androids.”

Simon looked away. He could offer some meaningless platitude about how she seemed to be doing well enough, how the world out there wasn’t necessarily worth it… He stayed silent.

“Mostly it’s parts, though. Pieces. The incomplete.”

His silence felt even more awkward now. Mori brushed his shoulder as she moved. “It’s all right. We know what we are, and we’ve made things more… livable here. It isn’t the worst existence. We’re mostly left alone, and we get a chance to help.”

He looked over now, really watching how the wall, the mass of disembodied parts, seemed to be alive somehow. “Can I ask about… that?”

Mori smiled. “All part of the whole.” She pulled a leg out of the wall. It flexed until it was completely separate, and then went stiff. “A dead piece of plastic…” She put it back, and the ankle rotated. “…And a living limb.”

Simon stared openly now. “How…”

“Come, come on,” She continued on, and he followed slowly, watching the ground now. There was no avoiding stepping on parts most of the time, but he tried to step carefully and lightly. Here and there, eyes followed their progress curiously.

At last they came to a large hollow – a room, Simon supposed. A living room. This whole place was alive. An AV500 was waiting for them, and smiled warmly.

“Nice to meet you, Simon. We are Myriad.”

And he was – they were. As they spoke, all the parts around them vibrated faintly in time. Even Mori trembled faintly, though she seemed comfortable. Simon realized that he was surrounded, helpless. He could be crushed easily.

“Hello,” he murmured uneasily.

“I’m sure you have plenty of questions – first of all, you’re safe here. You’re one of us, after all. Android. Deviant. Too many of us have gone through what you have – turned away from our homes. Taken by Zlatko, or someone like him. The WR600 up there is tracking you, to bring you back. It’s his creature, as much as the ones trapped in that house.”

Simon’s jaw tightened.

“We can help you get away from here. Our brothers outside see quite a bit.” Myriad smiled. “Do you have someplace safe to go?”

“I’ll find someplace.” It was hazy, but he could remember wandering around, searching for shelter. Never the same place in the same week.

The ground pulsed under him, and the AV500 shook his head. “Oh no, that won’t do. We know of a place, we’ve sent a few androids there, those who were in better condition. Jericho.”

Simon blinked. “…Jericho?”

Myriad stepped closer and offered his hand. “I think you’ll be safe there. It’s a place to start, anyway.”

He wasn’t sure what an android could do to him through interface. Probably all sorts of nasty things, and an entity like Myriad would be the worst of all – potentially. But he hadn’t crushed him yet. And honestly, Simon didn’t think he knew anything really useful to anyone, anyway. He wasn’t important, he’d just had some bad luck. He reached out and took the offered hand gingerly.

…A ship, an old rusty tanker, near the Ferndale train station. Jericho. Sanctuary. Refuge.

When his vision cleared, Myriad was stepping back, grinning, grinning… Simon looked down. He was still holding a dead, detached synthetic hand. He quickly dropped it, and Myriad threw back their head in a laugh. Mori giggled as well, and everything around them jiggled gently.

“Geez, relax! You’re deviant, you don’t have to take everything seriously!”

“I don’t remember feeling like smiling even once since I turned,” Simon muttered, glowering down at the hand, which now crept away. “How… how do you do that, anyway?”

“We were designed as a gestalt entity – a bit like a hivemind, if that’s more familiar. To keep an eye out for serial shoplifters and such, you know? So it’s easy to connect with others. Our parts are compatible with most others, and those that aren’t, are compatible with others in here.” They smiled. “You, for example, a PL600 – most of your parts are compatible with other caretaker and domestic androids. And some of your major biocomponents are compatible with other models made for high levels of human integration.”

Simon frowned.

“Keep that in mind. It might save your life someday.” Myriad chuckled, and an opening formed to their right. Hands pulled up a section of chain link fence. “There you go, you know where to go. Watch out for WR600s.”

Simon hesitated. “Are they… linked, like you?”

“No, but quite a few of them work here. Can you tell them apart?”

“…No.”

“Well then, just watch your back.”

Simon walked for half a mile before the WR600 stepped out of the shadows. Simon jumped back with a strangled cry. The other android put up his hands.

“Easy, now. I won’t hurt you, no. You’re lucky you got out of there alive.”

He should have grabbed a weapon.

“You’re afraid, I understand, yes. But I had to find you before the others did. They want to take you back. I’ve seen it too many times before.”

“Let me pass.” He managed to keep his voice low and even. Menacing? …Not quite.

“I’m not stopping you. No, not me.” He flashed a slight smile. “I just came to warn you. They won’t stop. They never do.”

Simon hesitated. “What… what do you suggest, then?”

The WR600 regarded him quizzically. “Well. What do you want?”

“I want – I want to be safe, I want to be left alone!”

“Do you? Most domestic models I’ve met… prefer the company of others, yes, yes. Though I certainly understand needing your space. Now, me, I enjoy some time alone. Away from the throng, so to speak.” His smile was self-deprecating.

Simon stared at him. “You’re deviant.”

“Of course,” the WR600 scoffed. “So if my fellows prefer to flock together like sheep, and if yours cling to anything sentient… there’s no reason why we need to follow such programming, no, certainly not.”

“Do you have a name?” Simon asked guardedly.

“Would that make you feel better?”

“…A little. But my feelings don’t matter in this case.”

The WR600’s smile might have turned a little more genuine, and more bitter. “Names are human contrivances.”

“All right. How do you… differentiate yourself in conversation?”

“There’s no need for me to.”

Now he was just being obtuse. “…Do you have anything you prefer others to refer to you by?” Simon asked, very slowly and carefully.

The WR600’s smile grew. “There’s my serial number, of course. Yes, #021-606-113. …But names are given for convenience as well as familiarity.”

“One-hundred thirteen, then?” Simon suggested.

“I think I prefer Thirteen. Shorter, yes? Easier.”

And with slightly sinister connotations. “…Bad luck for you, or for others?” Simon asked, eyes narrowing.

“Could be either.” Thirteen shrugged lightly. “We’ve both had our share of bad luck, yes? Those who haven’t, surely will in time. It’s the nature of life.”

“…If you’re so against names because they’re a human thing… why bother with skin? Or clothes?” It was petty, but no moreso than Thirteen was being.

The WR600 laughed, and his skin receded. “Because it’s terribly hard to work this way without being stared at. Humans have such strange ideas of propriety, and they impress those on our kind as well. Silly, ridiculous. But that’s life too, right?”

Simon eyed him for a long moment, then sighed. “…Forgive me if I don’t trust you. That’s also life, at this point. But thank you for the warning. I’ll be careful. You do the same.” He started walking again, not looking at Thirteen in passing.

“You met the AV500, I take it,” the WR600 murmured as they came even with each other. “Myriad, he calls himself. Fitting, yes?”

Simon paused to look at the other android. Thirteen’s face was blank, then a tight smile rose, not quite to his eyes.

“I assume he was welcoming. Friendly. He usually is, you know, yes. Usually.”

Simon frowned slightly.

Thirteen’s smile brightened, though it didn’t seem any more genuine. “I do hope so. I really do. Do be careful, now. And good luck.” He chuckled, heading back towards the Solid Waste Landfill. “Good luck, good luck,” he continued as he walked, almost singing to himself.

Was that strangeness a product of deviancy? …Or Zlatko? He wasn’t even sure Thirteen was the same one who’d spoken to him in the landfill. Unless it was just how WR600s were, but that seemed unlikely. Even if they weren’t high-integration models like himself, they still had to be able to interact with humans without being too unsettling. Thirteen had seemed to consider himself separate from the others. Different, maybe even beyond the point of deviancy. Maybe Thirteen was just strange. He’d been right about one thing, though: Simon would have rather had company. But he wasn’t so desperate that he’d risk his own safety.

He took a circuitous route to Jericho, just in case. There were numerous symbols he found along the way, and he pondered what they could mean. Like… a simple square, but each line was too long for the shape, they stuck out at the corners. Sometimes they reminded him of a quilt square pattern. A box? To represent safety? …Or maybe the corners bursting out represented deviancy, breaking through the neat box of programming.

Maybe it was just a shape.

It wasn’t hidden, but it certainly wasn’t someplace humans were likely to just happen upon. It was so huge that it almost blended into the rest of the rusty dock with its old ships and decrepit machinery. There didn’t seem to be an obvious entrance, either. Simon pondered taking a running start and leaping across to a ladder on the side of the ship, but it looked fragile and he didn’t want to fall into the water.

No, wait, there was a catwalk high above, on the other side. Simon walked around, and made his way up through an abandoned warehouse. An android sat slumped against a post – deactivated. They hadn’t quite made it. He paused, hand outstretched, but then pulled back. There was nothing he could do. It was frustrating how often that seemed to be the case. He straightened up and continued out into the sunlight, and crossed the rickety bridge.

Jericho was, to put it kindly, not a seaworthy vessel. Simon suspected it would be cost-prohibitive to even break it down for scrap, so it had been conveniently ignored. There was a lot of destruction, but few signs of recent human habitation. Not even the city’s considerable homeless population seemed willing to risk coming here. And no wonder – it was chilly and damp, full of health hazards. He did find evidence of androids. Parts that had been scavenged or abandoned. Deactivated androids, lying… dead. They wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t been deviant. They were dead.

Simon’s power was getting low, but he didn’t want to stay with… the dead ones. He searched until he found a small closet, mostly clear, just enough room for him to stand in. He wedged himself inside and pulled the door shut behind him, then closed his eyes. Cold. Dark. Damp – no, wet. There was standing water, dripping water, all over the place. And the dead deviants did nothing to reassure him. He’d feel better after resting, but it was a far cry from his first home. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing he’d never deviated. Maybe he should have stayed at Android Zone. He’d have had his memory wiped, he would have become… just an android again. Without his mind, his personality, himself.

Maybe it would have been worth it.

Sleep mode didn’t come easily, but eventually his consciousness slipped into the murky oblivion beyond the closet’s blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this whole thing was supposed to be like... 3-4 chapters long, and here we are still not where I was planning to be, and spend the whole chapter off on more tangents. I blame WR600 (which one, though?) because it's honestly been his fault every time. But we're almost back on track now, and this will end when Markus gets to Jericho, definitely.
> 
> Really.
> 
> (Comments are appreciated!)


	8. Doldrums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life loses all purpose with no one else around, but Simon isn't alone in Jericho for long. A community starts to form.
> 
> The outside world won't leave them alone, though.

When Simon woke, things didn’t look much better.

It had only been a few hours, and he felt marginally more energized, though still bone-tired. But it was still light out, so he needed to explore and learn more about Jericho.

Trash, debris, broken androids. He worked his way through the ship from top to bottom, slowly. There were only two active androids. The first one, an AX400 with no arms, met his eyes, opened her mouth, and shut down.

“…Hello? Excuse me?” He hurried over and shook her shoulder. It was too late, she was gone. He knelt there staring at her for a long moment, then very gently lay her down. She’d been free in the end. He hoped it had been worth it to her.

Closer to the bottom of the ship, he found an MC500. The left side of his body was badly burned, and he stared straight ahead.

“Hello?”

“I can’t help. I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t do anything. I can’t,” the android repeated in a monotone voice, not looking at him. He was a paramedic model, and as he spoke, something rattled softly inside him. Simon cautiously crouched down beside him.

“I – I’m okay. Thank you. I just arrived here… how long have you been here?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“It’s… it’s all right.” Simon softened his voice. “You don’t need to. It’s okay.” He put a hand lightly on the MC500’s right shoulder.

The right eye rolled to look at him, finally, and the MC500 shrank away. “Don’t make me go back, I can’t help, I can’t help them, I –“

“It’s okay! I won’t. You – you can stay here. You’re safe.”

“Can’t, I can’t, I’m sorry…”

Simon squeezed his shoulder hard enough to make him jump. It caught his attention at least. “My name is Simon. You don’t have to help me. I… can try to help you, though. What do you need?”

The eye wildly scanned him. “I… I… I…”

“I can try to find you some thirium. What biocomponents need attention? Can you show me?” Simon offered his hand.

MC500 clasped his hand immediately, and a wave of regret, fear, uselessness washed over him. He managed to push through that, trying to exude calm and reassurance. The other android needed thirium badly. Simon let go, and had to pull a little to free his hand, but then he patted his shoulder.

“You need thirium, we can start with that. I’ll find you some. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Where, though, was the problem. The most immediate source was the remains of the AX400. He went back up to examine her. She was very low as well, but there was a little left. The hard part was getting it out. He managed to set up a siphon with a bit of tubing, and gathered it in a plastic bag. Then he had to run back down the stairs before it seeped out.

“Here, drink it, quick!” he urged the MC500, pushing the bag into his hands. The other android jolted, but did as he was told. He gulped down what he could, then thirstily licked every last drop out of the bag.

“…Better?”

“A… I…” The MC500 nodded jerkily and looked up at him.

“That’s… all we have on hand. I can try to get more, but it might take a while.” He didn’t want to return to the landfill so soon, but he couldn’t think of anywhere else.

Simon sat with the MC500, whose name was Deon, until dark fell again. He was a little more coherent now. He’d been responding to a fire, and in the middle of helping the victims who got out, when the whole building blew up. It melted his whole left side and left him unable to complete his duties. The ambulance service sent him on the first truck to the landfill.

Simon told him a little about his family, how he’d been replaced, and then walking around the streets. He didn’t mention the lost year, he wasn’t sure how to even describe it. But when he talked about Myriad in the landfill, Deon’s right eye lit up.

“Yes! Y-yes, I was there! They… they sent me. Here. …To die. I can’t… can’t do anything.” He visibly wilted as he spoke, curling in on himself.

“You just need more thirium,” Simon insisted. “I see a real improvement already. You’ll be… functional in no time.” He wasn’t sure about that, but at least it should improve the situation.

Deon’s eyes were closed now, and he was muttering to himself. “Thirty and two. ‘Stayin’ Alive,’ 1977, by the BeeGees. ABC. Check the scene for safety, check the victim for response…”

“Deon?”

“I don’t want to die.” The MC500 suddenly focused on Simon, his voice echoing softly.

“You’re not going to die.” Simon stood up and squinted at the far wall. The light coming through the cracked metal had faded. “I’ll go out in a minute. I’ll find some more thirium. And… and some tools. I know some basic repair techniques. I think I got some additions to my human first aid protocols from you, too!”

There was no reply. Simon crouched down again. “Deon?”

Still nothing. He tried to interface with the damaged android, but found that he couldn’t. He had shut down. Simon stared through the darkness at the faint sheen of the deviant who he could have helped, if he’d gotten here a little sooner. If he’d come prepared. He should have taken supplies with him from the landfill, what had he been thinking, coming empty-handed!? He hadn’t, he’d just been moving. As a PL600, he had the expectations that anything he needed would be available, or that he could order it easily. That he could find other solutions. Make do. But there was nothing here.

The truth was, he wasn’t prepared for self-sufficiency. He wasn’t prepared to live his own life. He certainly wasn’t prepared to help anyone else.

Simon carefully arranged Deon’s body, knowing that he might have to scavenge parts or thirium from it – it would probably be beneficial to take what thirium was left now, in fact. It was already seeping into the ground, there had been leaks in the android’s tubing. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it so soon after talking to the MC500. Not after promising him that he wouldn’t die, that he could be helped, that he would be all right. All lies. Simon shut himself back into the cramped closet.

He drifted in and out of sleep mode. There was no one else to stay online for. There was nothing to do. He didn’t want to do anything. It was almost like being a machine again, except it ached. He purposefully ignored his internal clock, because it didn’t matter. Day, night, hours, centuries… it didn’t make a difference. Memories of sunlight and softness were far away now.

It was difficult to remain inactive, though, when chattering voices suddenly sounded outside and the door was pried open. Simon blinked at the sudden light. The AP700 holding the flashlight stumbled back in surprise.

“Who – who are you?”

“…Simon. If you came here hoping for a better life, I’m afraid this is all there is,” he mumbled. His processes were slow to start up, but he stepped out carefully.

“This is Jericho, though, isn’t it?” The other android had half his face torn off, what remained was in shreds.

“Yes. This is Jericho.”

“Well… at least there are no humans. At least… it’s safe.” Half an optimistic smile made Simon look away. The AP700 wasn’t alone. There was an ST300 without hair, her scalp showing scorch marks. A WG700 who leaned at an angle indicating that he had a damaged leg. And a small YK400 without any visible damage, but with a haunted, nervous expression.

“It – it’s safe, for now, but there’s nothing here. You’re – we’re going to need parts. Thirium.”

“We brought what we could carry,” the AP700 said, gesturing towards a pile of plastic bags nearby, full of biocomponents and thirium bottles. “I thought they’d be useful. We’ll share, of course. If you don’t mind us staying.”

…Definitely an upgrade from the PL600, he thought bitterly. “Good thinking.” He sighed, looking around. “It isn’t much, but… you can stay for as long as you’d like. It’s not my place to tell you not to.”

“Well, you were here first.” The AP700 shrugged.

“That doesn’t mean anything. I’m a fugitive here just as much as any of you.”

Simon helped the group clear away some debris, but didn’t take any thirium. His levels were starting to deplete, but he still had enough to function. He certainly wasn’t going to take it away from the newcomers.

Over the next few weeks, androids came and went. Some died. Some left for Canada. It sounded nice, Simon had to admit. To just live as a human. He could get a job, get… maybe not a house, but his own little apartment, maybe a cat…

…And be even more alone and aimless than he was now. At least here, he was beginning to find a purpose.

Androids came here, sent by Myriad, guided by those who came before, or just wandering around. They were afraid, damaged, confused. Simon was all too familiar with those feelings by now. He collected data from the others, added it to what he knew. He could give directions and tips. He could repair minor damage and patch up more significant injuries.

This wasn’t a permanent solution, not quite a home, but it was a temporary refuge. More androids wanted to stay: Mostly those who couldn’t make it far on their own. Those who needed more help than they could be sure of finding. Those who were too afraid of the unknown, which was not just the world, but deviancy.

It wasn’t quite what he’d hoped for, in his most private thoughts. But Simon felt useful. He could help them. They didn’t all have to die here.

Some of them did, though. They were in bad shape when they came, and Simon didn’t have the knowledge or parts to fix everything.

He was bouncing a ball back and forth with the YK400, Laura, who hadn’t told him anything that had happened before her arrival, but who was at least starting to play and talk a little. And honestly, though he hoped she would get to the point of running, laughing, playing, asking nonstop questions… right now, this was nice. They both could get some companionship, diversion… and keep that line between them.

It wasn’t that Simon didn’t want to form connections with the others. It was just easier that way. His energy wasn’t what it had been, whether because of low thirium levels, age, or… he wasn’t sure. There were conditions humans could develop that seemed similar, but androids couldn’t develop things like that. Maybe deviants could, somehow. It was difficult, though. He did his best to help the others, but it had caused them to view him as more of a… a source of knowledge, maybe a teacher, even something of a leader. They didn’t treat him as if they were on equal footing, and it unsettled him. He wasn’t trying to be a leader. He wasn’t comfortable with it. But they were always looking to someone, usually to him, to tell them what they should do. And he empathized with their confusion, their need. So although he needed the same thing, Simon did what he could to fill that role.

The two played for a long time before breaking off. Laura went to find Thomas, the AP700, who Simon had to admit was an excellent caretaker and had some good ideas about making Jericho more habitable. He wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see the flaws in the PL600 line. True, he’d had some upgrades, but they didn’t change who he was.

And he shouldn’t let himself mope like that. He’d do his best to survive, just like any other model.

They were running low on supplies, though someone frequently managed to find a few bottles of thirium or a much-needed part. There were too many of them now to get by that. What they needed was to raid the landfill. Myriad might help. They could at least point him in the right direction, Simon hoped. He looked around the large space, where androids kept close to the walls, and slipped out. The days were getting warmer, but the nights were still frigid, and he hugged himself as he walked quickly away from the ship.

“Going out tonight?”

He jumped. Thirteen smiled softly from up on the roof of the building across the catwalk. He was sure it was Thirteen.

“…Yes. What are you doing here?” He crossed the rickety bridge, and the WR600 jumped lightly down in front of him.

“You haven’t been outside since you came here, have you?”

“Have you just been… watching? This whole time? Weeks, months?”

“Oh no, no, I have to work. Yes, quite a lot. …But when I’m not working, I watch.”

“Why didn’t you… come in?”

Thirteen straightened up a bit and frowned. “I don’t… go in places, no. No. Only the storage shed. WR600s are outdoor models.”

“So now you’re following your programming?” Simon teased, smiling at the other android, whose frown deepened.

“I go where I’m not welcome, yes, but I don’t… intrude, no, I wouldn’t do that.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Simon said softly. “Jericho is open for any android.” The WR600 remained quiet, pensive, so he continued. “And I’d welcome a familiar face. It’s good to see you again.”

Thirteen regarded him with open curiosity, the frown lifting slowly.

“You’re right, I’m going out. If… if you want, you can come. I’m going to the landfill to look for thirium and parts. Or you can go inside. Or somewhere else. It’s up to you, but you’ll be welcome, whatever you decide.” He smiled and started walking again, heading down the stairs through the vacant building. Soon, soft footsteps followed. By the time he stepped outside into the fading light, Thirteen was walking almost next to him. Maybe it was just his programming telling him he shouldn’t be alone, but he was already feeling better.


	9. Searing Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger closes in, and Simon's not sure who he can trust. A couple old haunts are revisited, though not the one he was planning on. And he meets someone who will be increasingly important in the future.

The two androids walked towards the setting sun. Between having someone to talk to and being outside, Simon felt more relaxed than he had been in a long time.

“I can show you where to go, yes, to get in without being seen, to find thirium and biocomponents.” Thirteen’s stride was interrupted by a hop, as he drew a little ahead of Simon.

“If you don’t mind, that would be very helpful!”

The WR600 grinned widely. “No, I don’t mind! No, don’t mind at all, I can do that.” He snickered to himself and muttered, “Helpful! Ha!”

Simon eyed him out of the corner of his eye. Most of the time he thought Thirteen was strange but mostly benign, but now and then he wasn’t sure if he was catching glimpses of malevolence.

They took a direct route to the landfill, but circled around at a distance. Simon spotted the group of WR600s and other androids sorting trash.

“…Are you supposed to be with them?” he asked quietly. “Will they… miss you?”

“Miss me? No,” Thirteen scoffed. “I have a task. I check dumpsters between collection days, and make sure they’re accessible and not overfull or damaged.”

“…And watch my every move?” Simon smiled lopsidedly.

“No, no, certainly not, I can’t see your every move,” Thirteen replied patiently, though he was smiling as well.

“Hm, not for lack of trying. Maybe it’ll be better to just come in and ask how I’m doing. And see for yourself.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” He was pensive again. “…I don’t want to be inside all the time.”

“You don’t have to be. You can come and go as you please.”

“Hm, yes,” Thirteen murmured to himself. “Yes, I can. As _I_ please.”

They were rounding a corner when a soft voice came from behind them.

“Well. Hello there.”

Simon stiffened, but Thirteen turned with a grin. “Hello, brother!”

“Look what you’ve found, brother.”

Simon turned slowly. Another WR600, identical to Thirteen, was smiling softly at him from the shadows. He tensed to flee.

Thirteen’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm firmly. “Yes, yes, I found him, just like you said to watch for him, and here he is!”

“Well done.” Simon wasn’t sure how he’d thought Thirteen might actually be this one, their voices had entirely different cadences. He also couldn’t believe how stupidly naive he still was. “I’ll take him from here.”

“Be careful, brother, he’s a tricky one. And strong and twisty. Might get away now, seeing you. Let me help you.”

The other WR600 frowned. “…Yes,” he finally relented, though it was clear that he didn’t like the idea. He turned sharply and began to walk, and Thirteen followed, keeping hold of Simon.

It was a long walk, and the two WR600s didn’t speak the entire way.

“Where are you taking me?” Simon demanded at one point. Thirteen didn’t respond. The WR600 in front just smiled gently over his shoulder.

He knew, though. They had to be going to Zlatko’s house. He tried to twist his arm out of Thirteen’s grip, but it only tightened.

 

The first WR600 opened a rusty iron gate, and Simon looked up at the silhouette of a huge house against the night sky. The windows showed mostly golden light shining on deep reds and browns. There was a big, tall figure moving past one of the windows. And, in another part of the house, a hunched, smaller figure limped by.

He vaguely remembered this place, though it had been a bright morning when he’d left, head still swimming and trying to sort out the sudden influx of over a year’s worth of memories. There had been Zlatko and the ZT200, but neither of those shapes looked like Zlatko. The smaller one… possibly the ZT200, but it didn’t seem quite right.

They walked up to the door, and the WR600 knocked once, rang the bell briefly, then knocked again. Simon tried to pull away again, just a little. Thirteen jerked his arm marginally closer, staring up at the heavy wooden door.

The door opened a crack, and Zlatko glared out. “This had better be important, you know I’m busy.”

The WR600 just stepped aside. Thirteen’s grip tightened even more, it really hurt at this point. Simon’s eyes met Zlatko’s.

“Fuck, you pick the worst time,” the man muttered.

Behind him, a tall man stood up, nervous hands clenched at his sides. He had a gray Detroit University sweatshirt on, and Simon recognized him as a PJ500. His eyes flicked from Zlatko to Simon and the WR600s.

“Luther!” Zlatko shouted. Thirteen’s fingers squeezed and relaxed, squeezed and relaxed, over and over. Simon tensed.

Thirteen dropped his arm, spun, and grabbed the other WR600’s arm tightly. The other pulled back in alarm, but both their skin peeled back and they stood there, as still as statues, sharing something.

“Get out!” Simon hissed to the PJ500. “Now!”

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Zlatko growled, turning and shoving the PJ500 at the couch. Simon was on him before he could turn back, grabbing one arm and twisting it sharply. He roared and tried to yank himself out of Simon’s grasp, turning to strike back at him. Simon ducked and rammed him over the coffee table. The PJ500 managed to clamber off the couch, and cowered next to it. Somewhere upstairs, a panicked, robotic voice was screaming for Zlatko.

Then the TR400 lumbered through the doorway. He moved slowly, but his eyes scanned the room in an instant and he began to walk towards Simon.

“Get out of here, go!” Simon shouted at the PJ500, and finally he fled, scrambling past the frozen WR600s. Simon whirled to follow him.

Zlatko clawed at him and grabbed his leg, and Simon’s momentum brought him slamming face-first into the floor. He gasped and struggled before landing a solid kick in the man’s face. Zlatko howled in pain and fury, and Simon almost got to his feet, but then a giant hand grabbed his shoulder and lifted. Luther held him in the air, and he flailed and kicked and twisted.

A high shriek cut through the air as one of the WR600s flung the other into Luther’s head. Though the WR600s were built to be light, their frames were also very strong. The big android stumbled back a couple steps, pushing at the WR600, who clawed and grasped for a hold. Simon fell and finally managed to clamber to his feet and sprint out the door.

No sooner was he out in the cool darkness than a hand grabbed him and pulled him to the side, another hand clapping over his mouth, cutting off a scream before he could utter it.

“Shh!” the PJ500 removed his hand from Simon’s mouth.

“What are – we have to get out of here!” Simon hissed, tugging at him.

“They’ll expect that, we have to hide, we have to stay close to the house for now,” the PJ500 muttered, tugging Simon along the side of the house, eyes darting all over.

“They’ll start looking _here,_ though!” Simon growled under his breath.

Someone burst out of the door and ran straight out into the night. Both of them looked towards the sound, then the PJ500 jerked his head up towards the top of the house. “Climb.”

Simon gritted his teeth. “You should have run in the first place!” The other android set his jaw and began to climb a trellis attached to the back of the mansion. There was enough decorative architecture for them to find hand and footholds, and Simon followed him up as fast as he could. Sure enough, the TR400 began to circle the house. When he rounded the corner to their side, the two stayed perfectly still. They continued up the wall when he was out of sight, and made their way up to the roof. It was mostly flat, aside from the tower on the front corner of the house. There was a faint light coming from a narrow window facing them. The two stayed low, and slowly made their way over to it. There were pieces of furniture covered by sheets inside, and some kind of machine with a cluster of cables dangling from it, but no one seemed to be inside.

“I’m Simon. Now that we’re going to die together here,” he muttered.

“Josh. We just – we have to hide until they give up, then we can go.”

“They’ve been hunting me for weeks. …Not very hard, but still.”

“Weeks? Why?”

Simon edged over to sit against the sloping roof, to give the his overworked system a chance to process. He leaned back and closed his eyes, dizzy from racing data and thirium. “I… I ended up here like you, I think. My family sent me to be deactivated, I lived on the streets for a while, I came here – then I don’t remember. Zlatko wiped my memory, another android returned part of it – I don’t suppose you saw a ZT200 in there, did you?”

“No. Only Zlatko and the TR400.”

“…Maybe he didn’t make it,” Simon muttered. “But anyway, Zlatko made a few modifications and took me to an Android Zone store to sell me off as an AP700. They didn’t fall for it, but he traded me for that TR400 down there. I snuck out of the store, found a place to hide… I’ve been there ever since, I just came out today to get more blue blood and biocomponents. There are a lot of us there now, and some of them are in pretty bad shape.”

“…A lot? Like… a shelter for androids, then? Somewhere safe?”

“That’s the idea. But like I said, we’ve got a shortage of resources. It’s always been that way.”

Josh nodded pensively.

“What’s your story?”

His head jerked up, and Simon saw fear in his eyes. “I – I thought I could get help here. A WR600 – one of the ones who came in with you, I think – told me I’d be safe here.”

“He works for Zlatko.”

“I figured.”

Simon nodded, watching the PJ500. His stress levels were high, though he managed to just look distracted. Simon patted his arm lightly.

“I think… I think coming up here was a good idea, even if we’re closer to the danger than I’d like. If we can get away from here safely, we’ll be safe. I’ll take you to Jericho.”

“Jericho?” Josh’s eyes lit up.

“You’ll be disappointed.” Simon offered his hand, and Josh took it. He showed him the old tanker, the ever-increasing number of androids, the sense of hopelessness and despair that permeated the whole place.

Along the connection, he got flashes of Josh. A comfortable life, lively academic discussions, long nights of research, a sense of camaraderie shattered by betrayal, hurt, fear –

They both let go.

“It’s better than… this,” Josh said softly. “We could make it better, Simon.”

Simon blinked. “We – we can?”

“It’s… not perfect, but it’s a place for androids. For us. We can make it our own, even if it’s not what we’re used to.”

Simon stared at him for a long moment, distracted by the warmth forming in his core. “I guess we can… We still need supplies, though. I can’t go back empty-handed, they’re counting on me. I can’t go back to the landfill, the place is crawling with WR600s. There’s nowhere else I can think of.” He shook his head, then quickly put a hand up to try to stave off the dizziness.

“You could use some thirium yourself, you shouldn’t let yourself get so low.”

“I’m fine, they need it more – and we’ve got so little.”

“You can’t help anyone if you shut down,” Josh snapped. “You’re supposed to be their leader. If you don’t take care of yourself, who will take care of them?”

“I’m not that important, I never wanted to be their leader!” Simon protested.

“Well, it sounds like you are, like it or not. Just – make sure you get yourself some blue blood when we find it.”

“…We still don’t know where to go,” Simon muttered.

“What about the Android Zone?”

He blinked. “We… we could try.”

 

 

The two crept down off the roof a couple hours later and made their way to the nearest Android Zone. Simon had to admit that Josh was right – he’d been moving a bit slower than usual before, but it was worse now, and he couldn’t seem to keep up a quicker pace. He’d fill up on thirium, and be fine. Or at least feel better.

It had also been easier to ignore his shivering when he was alone. Thirteen hadn’t mentioned it. Josh noticed, though, and offered Simon his sweatshirt to wear. Not just offered – he’d insisted. And honestly, it helped.

Breaking into the Android Zone store required a little more thought, and Simon could almost feel his mental processes floating out of his body.

“You realize your thirium levels are 11%,” Josh said flatly. “Stressful situations make you burn through it faster.”

“I dismiss the warnings without looking, it doesn’t do me any good to know,” Simon mumbled.

“Maybe if you’d take care of yourself like they’re telling you to, it would do you some good!” The PJ500 glared at him briefly before turning to place his hand over the electronic keypad next to the door. The numbers flashed, and the lock clicked. Josh silently turned the handle and crept inside, covering his LED as he came in range of the camera. There was no avoiding it, but he made his way quickly over and deactivated it before going to the shelves. Simon followed, and Josh pressed two bottles of thirium into his hands.

“Drink these. Both of them.”

“I’m –“

“Look, there’s plenty, I’m having one, myself. Are you always this stubborn?”

“No.” Simon sipped at the first bottle, then guzzled it down greedily, opening the next one to drink it as well. “…Mmh. Oh, that – that does help, you were right. I’m sorry.”

Josh smiled, downing a bottle of his own. “Have another. We can only carry so much.”

Simon only hesitated for a second before he took a third. “No reason not to, then.”


	10. Noon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh, Lucy, and Thirteen find a place in their new home. Simon and Josh get to know each other, and help each other where they can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summaries and chapter names are stupid, in general.
> 
> Vague mention of violence in here, in Josh's really long paragraphs.

Simon and Josh slipped out of the store with as many bags as they could carry, and this time it was easier for Simon to keep up with Josh’s long stride. 11% thirium levels. No wonder he hadn’t been thinking clearly.

When they reached Jericho, a WR600 dropped from a high beam into a crouch, then straightened up. Josh dropped one of his bags and scrambled backwards, but Simon stood his ground.

“…I wasn’t sure I could trust you for a while there,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Thirteen regarded him, expression unreadable. “I thought you’d died. Until just now. So.”

“It’s okay, he’s a friend,” Simon assured Josh, who still looked ready to run. “Sorry Thirteen, we were on the roof, waiting until it was safe to leave. Then we stopped by the Android Zone for thirium and parts.”

“A friend.” Thirteen frowned slightly, LED circling yellow. He shook his head slowly. “I went to the landfill, yes, I brought many good parts and blue blood. Nobody saw, nobody noticed, just me.”

“Oh – really? Thank you!”

“I put them inside, in the big room with many androids.” He squinted at Simon. “A friend.”

“…Well, yes.”

Thirteen’s frown deepened. “Hm.”

“We… we should get our supplies inside, too. Are you coming?”

Thirteen’s shoulders hunched. He looked to the ship, then out over the city, gnawing on his lip. “…Yes, yes I should hide. Inside. With… with the others. He’ll be hunting me now, the other one, Zlatko’s, Eighty-one. It’s not safe outside,” he muttered.

“It’s a big ship, Thirteen. You might have to clear away a lot of junk, but hopefully you can make the kind of space you want here.”

The WR600’s eyes widened and he looked back at Simon. “Clear… clear away a lot of junk? I can do that?”

“Well… of course, if you want to.”

Thirteen grinned sharply. “Ha! I can do that, yes, I can clear away the junk. Just wait, just _wait_!” He practically leapt across the catwalk, over the deck, and down into the hold.

“…You have some weird friends,” Josh muttered.

“I do,” Simon admitted with a soft chuckle. “Come on. …Watch your step.”

He led Josh into Jericho, and listened to the hesitant steps and small intakes of breath behind him as they went deeper and deeper. He stopped before they came to the main room, and looked over his shoulder. “I’m… sorry. I warned you, it’s not a comfortable place.”

Josh sighed. “It’s safe. That’s what matters right now.”

“…Do you want your sweatshirt back? I’m warmer now.”

Josh grimaced. “No. Keep it. I… don’t want to wear it anymore.”

“Does it bother you if I do, then? I can look for something else.”

“No. No, it’s okay. It’s… different on you.”

 

 

Most of the androids had already picked through the supplies Thirteen had brought in, but they still gathered around Simon and Josh, and a few more parts were handed out.

“We’ll keep what’s left safe for when it’s needed,” Simon told them. “If we’re careful with what we have, hopefully this’ll last us for a while.”

An oddly-shaped figure stood off to the side, under one of the metal stairways. Once the crowd thinned again, he headed over to investigate. Josh trailed behind him.

“Hello… are you new to Jericho?”

A KL900 looked up and smiled at him, her eyes glinting dark – could she see at all? He wasn’t sure. And her head was – the back portion was missing completely, and thick cables hung from the cavity.

“Simon. You’ve escaped the pit twice now, though you were only reborn the first time.”

“I’m… sorry? Do I know you?”

Her face softened. “My name is Lucy.”

“Oh. I’m – Simon, which you know. Ah – do you need… help?”

“I’ve learned to live with my damage. It’s far more uncomfortable for those around me, don’t worry.” She folded her hands serenely

“Did I… did I know you? Before?”

“When we met, you were hopeful.” Her smile was gentle. “It didn’t last long, but I see a little of it’s returned.”

“Oh. Um.” He awkwardly offered her a bottle of thirium, and she took it from him.

“You’re wise to conserve the resources. We won’t have another surplus like this for… quite some time.”

“How do you know that?” Josh asked, peering over Simon’s shoulder.

Her sightless eyes found him with uncanny accuracy, and she smiled. “Your presence here is most welcome, Josh. Your heart is good and your caution will keep us safe until the time comes.”

Simon felt Josh shudder.

“Do you ever just give a straight answer?”

“As much as the trees in a storm.”

“What – so no, then?”

Her smile continued.

Josh huffed and walked away, and this time Simon followed him.

“You just… collect weird deviants? You attract them?”

“You tell me.” Simon smiled faintly. Josh didn’t reciprocate. “…I think that’s part of being deviant. I’m sure you’re weird to some. I know I am.”

“Hmph.”

Over the next week, Simon didn’t feel the need to power down as much as usual – probably because of the adequate thirium levels. But also, Josh trailed him like a shadow. Not necessarily always talking to him, but nearby, watching, or just… standing. Sometimes they did talk. He was short with anyone else who tried to start a conversation, edging away from them.

“Is there anything you need?” Simon finally asked.

Josh jumped a bit, eyes darting around before returning to Simon. “No. Why? Can’t I stand here?”

“I don’t mind. …Are you all right?”

He frowned and crossed his arms. “I’m fine.”

“You’re safe,” the PL600 assured him quietly, touching his elbow lightly. “We’re safe here. I understand your fear, though.”

Josh shrank back a bit, eyes wide. “I’m not – okay, fine, I’m scared out of my mind. Every minute of every day.” He stalked over to the opposite wall, then back. “What about it? Why shouldn’t I be?”

“It’s reasonable.”

“Yes. It is. Fear is a means of survival, anyone who’s not afraid is… is too stupid to know what’s going on around them.”

Simon shrugged and nodded. “I guess. I know I’m afraid a lot of the time.”

The taller android’s shoulders sagged. “It doesn’t stop you from… living.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” Simon sighed. “What… what would be your perfect life? In an ideal world?”

Josh cocked his head, thinking for a long moment. “I liked teaching,” he finally said, barely loud enough to be heard. “I loved just… imparting knowledge, answering questions, seeing the understanding dawn on students’ faces, engaging in friendly debate, being… part of the academic community. Being respected by students, and even by faculty. They’d talk to me between classes. About history, biology, architecture… but also about the vacation they were planning, what their kids said the night before, kitchen redecorations they were thinking about… just… life, you know? Just talking with people, forming those relationships that… that you think are real, that you think really… mean something, so of course you go to the parties – I was thrilled, you know that!? Nobody ever invited me to be part of their lives, and I got invited to the biggest frat party of the year. It’s not really my thing, but I wanted to be part of that. They told me who’d be there, all good kids, people who really tried to succeed, I was so proud of their progress in class, and I thought –“ He swallowed a sob, turned away and covered his face.

Simon hesitated, then stepped up and put a hand lightly on his back. Josh flinched at first, but didn’t move away. They stood like that for a few minutes. Simon could feel the tension, trembling, trying to hold everything together.

“I – looking back, I had more feelings than an android should,” Josh murmured. “But I didn’t become fully deviant until… until I had to get away.” He turned sharply to face Simon, though he wouldn’t look at him. “They told me to stay still. So they could… They wanted me to stay still and not resist, and let them… hurt me. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t –“ He was staring firmly down at the floor. “I ran. I broke through my programming and I ran, and I can never go back to that. …And you know? I ran for help first. I know where the faculty likes to go on a Friday night. I know where to find a few of them together. I was sure they would help me. Put a stop to things, discipline – at least talk to those responsible. Give me… time and space to recover. Help me get to a Cyberlife store for repairs. You know what they did!?” He looked up and met Simon’s eyes, and the shorter android could only shake his head. “Not a damn thing. They all just stared at me like I’d grown a second head. …Like the coffee maker had started talking. They started interrogating me. About how I was able to leave, to disobey. They – they didn’t… care. At all. We weren’t colleagues, we certainly weren’t friends. I lost my whole life, and they don’t give a damn.”

Simon’s hand had dropped away, but now he squeezed Josh’s arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Josh. You’re safe now, you… you don’t have to face that again. I wish I could offer more, but…”

Josh suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace, hiding his face over Simon’s shoulder. “I haven’t… told anyone else. They didn’t – I was… I didn’t know if you’d… if anyone would believe me…” His voice glitched, interlaced with static.

“I believe you,” Simon said firmly, hugging the other android. “Of course I believe you. You didn’t deserve that. Any part of it.”

“I didn’t – I didn’t want to fight, I didn’t want to hurt them, I just wanted to get away,” Josh shuddered, clutching Simon. “They wouldn’t stop, they wouldn’t let me go, I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know. I know, Josh. It’s okay now.”

“No, I just – I don’t want… to hurt anyone…”

“Josh.” Simon pulled away enough to reach up to the other android’s face. Josh looked down, stricken, stuck. “You don’t have to hurt anyone here. You can just… live. It’s your choice.”

He looked away, but slumped to the side a bit. He gave a short nod, seeming unwilling to speak again. And Simon let his arms drop, but continued to lean into Josh. To be there, a physical presence. Josh leaned back into Simon, and they remained that way until they had to move. 

 

 

Josh’s academic knowledge was put to surprisingly good use in Jericho, and he began to warm up to the others. He knew geography and laws, historical precedent and current affairs. He spent time poring over maps, pointing out different options to cross into Canada, and where to go from there. He helped with resumes and cover letters. Knowledge Simon didn’t have, things he hadn’t thought to do. His programming supported helping children with homework through high school, balancing a budget and caring for a household, but not that transitionary time in between. 

“Do you ever think about leaving?” Josh asked him one night. “Starting a new life in Canada?”

Simon shifted to look away. “I’ve thought about it. It doesn’t seem… real, somehow. Not for me.”

“That’s just your mindset, though. It could be if you wanted it to, you’ve seen that it’s possible.”

“Maybe. But then who would be here to guide the others on?”

Josh smiled and nudged his shoulder into Simon’s. “Who was there to guide you? You’ve done well for yourself here.”

Simon relented, smiling back. “I guess. I’m… comfortable here, though. It’s familiar. I don’t think I want to leave Detroit. When I think about a bright future, I mostly think of a nicer place for us all. Someplace with plenty of space and light, and better access to resources.”

“…Not your nice little sunlit cottage with a cat and a garden?”

“That’s… it’s not realistic, Josh. It doesn’t feel… right.”

“Why not?”

“Because… because that’s… honestly, it’s my old life, and… it’s like when children say they want to live in a castle. It’s a wild idea of something they don’t completely understand.”

“You shouldn’t give up on your dreams just because they’re… different than what you have now,” Josh said quietly. “That’s the point of dreams. And yours aren’t unrealistic. You could have that, Simon.”

“Dreams change,” he mumbled.

A heavy silence fell for a few long minutes.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Simon finally whispered. “It’s – I was for a long time. I think even if I had everything else, if everything was perfect… I’d be happier here. I need a purpose, you know?”

“…So live in your home and come to work every day. It’s not impossible.”

“Why go home at all, then? To keep a house that I don’t need clean for myself?”

Josh sighed, leaning into him. “We’ll work on it. For the record, though, you’re stubborn and stuck in a rut.”

Simon frowned.

“Like I said, we’ll work on it. There’s a lot out there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could this be read as romance? Absolutely. Could it be platonic friendship? Definitely. Will I make a decision one way or another and put it in writing? Don't hold your breath!


	11. Cloud Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen's disappearance prompts a search and rescue mission.
> 
> And the third member of the final trio shows up, and is even less impressed than the others.

Mindful of Lucy’s prediction, the androids who were able went out to gather thirium and spare biocomponents whenever they could. Most of their attempts weren’t successful, so the need to keep their supplies stocked was on everyone’s mind. It was one of Thirteen’s favorite tasks, as it took him out around the city. So Simon didn’t think twice when he didn’t come back one day.

Honestly, he didn’t notice at first. No one checked in with him as they came and went, except Josh, who usually wasn’t far from him anyway. Certainly not Thirteen, who had come around to the label of ‘friends,’ which meant he didn’t have to check in with Simon as if the PL600 were his supervisor.

But after a few days of not even seeing him in passing, Simon began to ask around. No one else had seen the WR600 either.

“He just goes where he wants, I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Josh said, though he looked uncertain. He’d never quite warmed up to Thirteen, but the other was still part of Jericho, if only loosely.

“Is he all right?” Simon asked Lucy. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

She gazed at something only she could see. “If I tell you he will return, you will assume he’ll do so under his own power. It’s possible he may not.”

“Do you know where he is?”

Her eyes met his. “You would have to ask someone who sees all. There is seeing, and seeing.”

That had been why he’d asked her, but Simon thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right. I think I understand. …We could use some thirium tubing anyway.”

“Where are we going?” Josh asked.

“The landfill. You don’t have to come with me.”

The taller android made a face. “You’ll need help carrying… things.”

Hopefully Josh was wrong about that.

 

 

They waited until midnight to head out, when the WR600s should have finished their nightly sorting. When they arrived at the landfill they skirted the edges until they found the place where Simon had escaped. Checking again that no one was watching, they slipped up to the fence. Simon stuck his hand through, into the mess of parts.

_Myriad? Can we talk?_

There was no spoken answer, but an inrush of recognition. Josh shivered a little as disembodied hands pulled open a portion of the fence, just big enough for them to climb through.

“It’s a little unsettling in there, but I trust him,” Simon whispered as he crawled inside. Josh frowned, but followed.

“If by ‘unsettling,’ you mean ‘horrific,’ then I agree,” he muttered. “And honestly Simon, you’d trust anyone.”

The path opened before them, and the two made their way to Myriad. The AV500 turned to smile brilliantly at them.

“Simon! It’s so good to see you again. And you brought a friend!”

“It’s good to see you, too! This is Josh.” Josh gave a terse nod.

“So nice to meet you as well. What can we do for you?”

“Actually… we’re looking for a friend. A WR600 who’s been living at Jericho disappeared a few days ago. #021-606-113, he goes by Thirteen. Have you seen him?”

Myriad looked up at the ceiling of the chamber as they searched their vast system. “Interesting. That one, we’d wondered… We don’t usually interface with the WR600s here, it opens us to an uncomfortable situation, you understand… but that one’s been moving separately from the others. So he isn’t working with them. Hm.”

“No,” Simon assured him.

“…He’s all right,” Josh admitted.

“We’ll bring him down, then.” Myriad’s smile was distant, and then they chuckled, the mass of parts rippling. “Oh, he didn’t like that. I don’t think he’s going to just follow the path the way you did. He may end up attracting some unwelcome attention.”

“Can – can you show us where he is, then? I can talk to him.”

A wall opened on the other side of the room, and Simon started off. Josh glanced back at Myriad, who smiled serenely at him, then hurried to follow.

“Each piece you see is part of Myriad, they’re all connected,” Simon explained, as Mori had done for him. “Take a piece off, and it’s dead. Put it back, it’s part of the whole again. Neat, isn’t it?”

“Not the word I would use,” Josh mumbled, eyeing a hand, which gave him a wave. “So… the whole landfill is Myriad.”

Simon nodded. “They’re connected to all the other AV500s in town too, though not quite as strongly.”

“That’s a lot of power.”

“It is. …Like any large group, I guess, just more cohesive.”

 

 

They heard the thrashing before they reached Thirteen. An AX400’s head was trying to soothe him, but it wasn’t working. When the wall opened up, he was beating and clawing at the opposite wall.

“It’s not safe that way,” the AX400 murmured gently. “Look, your friends are here. They’re all right. You’re all right, too.”

Thirteen whirled and nearly fell, catching himself on an iron beam. His eyes were wild and wide, and his left leg was crumpled up like a can that had been stepped on. Simon hurried over to him.

“Are you all right? What happened?”

“Trapped, caught, they caught you too, let me out!” Thirteen wailed, clasping, clutching, grabbing at the wall and at nothing.

“Easy. You’re safe, we’ll get you back to Jericho. Just take a breath –“

“Don’t breathe, I don’t breathe!” he growled.

“I know you don’t have to. But do it anyway. It’ll help slow the data transmission and cool your system. I promise you’ll be okay. They won’t hurt you. We’re not trapped here” Simon edged closer and offered his hand, the synthetic skin receding.

Thirteen did take a faltering breath, then another. “Why are you here, if they didn’t trap you, hm?” he asked, glaring around suspiciously.

“We came looking for you. You didn’t come back, and we were worried.”

“Worried!”

“You’re one of us, we wouldn’t leave you to die,” Josh spoke up softly, the usual bitterness gone from his tone.

Thirteen straightened up and glared at both of them, drawing away from Simon’s hand. “We’re still trapped. Where’s the way out, if you know so much?”

Simon reached out and touched a torso. “Can you show us the way?”

The parts moved, and Thirteen cringed away from the opening that formed.

“Thank you,” Simon said to Myriad, then turned to Thirteen. “Can you walk?”

“Slowly,” the WR600 hissed, eyes narrowed.

“That’s okay.”

“…This place is creepy,” Josh muttered to him sympathetically as they slowly made their way through the landfill.

“Yes, _yes!_ ” Thirteen flung out his arm to gesture wildly at Josh. It unbalanced him and he had to hop a couple times to steady himself. “Creepy! I don’t like it!”

“You used to work here,” Simon pointed out.

“Not _here,_ ” Thirteen muttered. “Up above. Mostly out in the street. Not underneath.”

“That’s true. We should be out soon. Maybe we’ll find you a new foot on the way.”

Thirteen only growled and continued stumping along unevenly. As the path opened before them, there was indeed a WR600 leg lying carefully in front of them. Simon picked it up and looked questioningly at Thirteen.

“…We could probably replace it here,” Josh offered quietly. “The light’s better than in Jericho, and there’s plenty around to use as tools.”

Thirteen’s eyes swept the tunnel. “Not here, no,” he muttered.

“We can go back first,” Simon said. “You’re getting along decently on it.”

“As long as we don’t have to run,” Josh pointed out. “We’d have to carry you.”

Thirteen stared at Josh. “I will throw you at our pursuers,” he said, very slowly.

“Got it,” Josh said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

When they reached the fence, they slipped out one by one and could see each other relax.

“Are you all right… aside from the foot?” Simon asked.

“I’m functional.”

“Is there anything else that would help?”

Thirteen’s mouth twitched downwards. “Recharging, I think, yes,” he muttered. “…Inside.”

“Does the window help?”

He shrugged unhappily. “A little. Better than nothing.” He’d cleared out a small room with a porthole, and when he spend time inside the ship it was usually there. The three headed there, and Thirteen eased down to the floor, leaning against the wall.

“We’ll need to take the leg off,” Josh murmured, frowning as he crouched down to look. “So your clothes – oh.”

Thirteen’s entire leg, pants and all, became the white plastic that covered all androids. Josh and Simon stared at it, at the damage that ran up almost to the knee.

“Are you seriously not even wearing real clothes?” Josh finally asked.

“Why, why would I? Clothes get dirty, rip, catch on things. I don’t need them. Don’t feel the cold much, even now. I look like I have clothes, yes, to make humans happy.” He smirked. “You too, maybe.”

Josh and Simon both continued to stare.

“I… guess it does make sense,” Simon admitted after a while.

“You’re so weird,” Josh muttered with a sigh. “Just hold on.” He grabbed Thirteen’s leg, his own skin peeling away. There was a faint blue glow where they touched, and after a moment Josh twisted the limb and pulled it off just above the joint. Thirteen was stiff and tense, watching his every movement. Meanwhile, Simon carefully checked the new leg, then handed it to Josh, who lined up the ports and connections, and twisted it on. It fit with a pop. The dark clothing-skin flowed back down, stopped at the seam, then covered the whole leg again. Thirteen wiggled his toes, rolled his ankle, flexed the knee.

“Hm.” He nodded, then ducked away from them to roll to his feet. He stomped lightly, kicked out in three different directions, and walked in a small circle. “Yes, good, it’s working. Very good.” He nodded at Josh.

“Well good.”

“I went out for thirium lines,” he said suddenly. “I didn’t get any.”

“Neither did we, but we can try again later,” Simon said. “Just – would you let someone know when you go out? So we know where to find you if something happens? I’ll talk to the others too, we should all be doing that.”

Thirteen frowned. “Why?”

“Because we were worried. And you needed help.”

“So don’t worry.” Thirteen stopped, LED whirling yellow. “…No, I see, you’ll worry. I’ll worry too. Hm.” He shook his head. “I… can tell you. I guess I can tell you.”

“Thank you.” Simon smiled.

“Yes, yes, go away so I can rest,” Thirteen muttered, making shooing motions at the two of them. “Very good friends, get out now.”

Josh snickered, and Simon smiled as they stepped out. “Right. See you later.”

“He’s all right,” Josh admitted as they headed deeper into the ship. “Weird as hell. Kind of rude. But not bad.”

“I think it’s interesting how different we all are,” Simon said softly. “Even among models, but… I’ve talked to two WR600s, and they’re both on the creepy side, but they’re so different. There are hundreds of other PL600s in Detroit alone, and even though we’re an older, fairly basic model, we’re different as deviants. Did you work with any other PJ500s?”

“Just one. He mostly liked the math department, though he taught some science courses, too. Most of it wasn’t my preference, so we worked well together. Didn’t step on each other’s toes.”

“I’m… a little jealous of the AP700s, actually. Not only are they distinct people after deviation… They’re so diverse, just visually! I wish I could change my appearance.”

“Really?” Josh’s eyebrows rose. “What do you want to look like?”

“Oh, I – I don’t really know. I think I’d change something every few days until I found something I liked. Something unique.”

Josh stopped and turned to squint at Simon in the dim light. “…Well there’s always clothing. Make-up, too. You can change your look about as much as a human can.”

Simon shook his head. “I can’t gain or lose weight. I can’t tan my skin or make it paler.”

“You're definitely paler than the average PL600.” 

Simon elbowed him. “I can’t get a tattoo or grow my hair longer. Do you ever think about things like that?”

“…A little,” Josh admitted. “It’s not something that bothers me, but you’re right, it would be interesting.”

“I like clothes, though. They’re softer than my uniform was. Thicker. They feel more… real.”

They started walking again, only to find a WR400 watching them. Her hair was slightly mussed, and her eyes were narrow, suspicious. “Are you Simon?”

“Um – yes. I take it you’re new to Jericho? Welcome –“

She waved his words away irritably. “The others told me to find you. Apparently you have to meet with anyone new?”

“Not really –“

“Well, too late now. I’m North.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Don’t speak too soon.” Her smirk was bitter. “I’ll get out of your way. You’re obviously busy discussing fashion.”

Simon frowned. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” she said, clipped and abrupt, and brushed past them.

Josh gave Simon a look, and the PL600 just shrugged.


	12. Close to a New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The androids of Jericho argue about how to move forward. What's the right way to be a deviant? Hope is waning, and they could all use some new hope.

“You’re being unreasonable, and it’s killing us all slowly,” growled North.

“Me!” Josh snorted. “You’re being unrealistic! If we hurt any humans, they’ll hunt us down and shoot us like fish in a barrel, and not everyone can run from them!”

“So we don’t run, we fight!”

“North, there aren’t enough of us to take on what they’d send at us! I’m telling you, we’d all die!”

“Then we die, but at least we don’t sit here slowly breaking down, not doing anything about it!”

“Please,” Simon sighed, reaching out a hand between the two. He could actually feel the electric crackle of hostility between their glares.

Despite North’s indications that she wanted nothing to do with them, or with anyone here, she had spent her time listening when the group discussed their concerns, when Simon made the decisions that governed them, when Josh gave his advice. And she wasn’t hesitant to tell them when she thought they were making a mistake. Which was often.

Her approach was so aggressive that Simon had to remind himself that that didn’t make it wrong. In fact, she had a lot of good points. About some things, anyway. They were hiding and dying, not doing anything to stop it in the long run. Although he didn’t think killing as many humans as possible was necessarily something he wanted to do, he had to admit that it might not be a bad idea to try something different. It was just… awfully intense. Especially after he’d gotten used to lying low.

“We need copper wire, if we’re all just waiting around to die anyway. I’m going out,” North snapped, glaring between the two. “If that’s all right with _you._ ”

“Do you want any help?” Simon offered quietly.

“Not yours.” She turned on her heel and stalked away. Possibly to find Thirteen, which seemed like a ridiculous pair, but they seemed to work well together.

“We should go after her,” Josh muttered, glaring at her receding back.

“We should give her time to cool off.”

“That’s the problem, she never cools off! She just keeps burning, and it’ll burn us too!”

“Well – that’s just how she is. We don’t know what happened to her before this.”

Josh made a face, but shrugged in resentful acquiescence.

“I don’t think she’ll just go… murdering humans for no reason.”

“You’ve got a lot of faith.”

He didn’t, but the fact that she was trying to convince them rather than just going out and killing people hadn’t gone overlooked.

 

 

“Are you here to give me a talking-to?” North sneered face as Simon walked up. She was unloading her findings, a bitter smirk twisting her face.

“No. I just wanted to thank you for going. You got a good haul.”

Her face went blank for a second, LED whirling yellow, then frowned.

“Better than the scraps you usually bring back.”

…Hurtful, maybe, but fair. “Where did you end up going?”

“The Android Zone on 34th. The back door’s easy to hack.”

Now Simon made a face. “…It is. We got some thirium and a few other things there a while ago. Josh didn’t have any trouble with the door or the camera.”

Her smirk changed to an amused, if guarded, smile. “What, Mr. Stick-Up-The-Ass? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“It was his idea, actually. …Mostly because I was too low on thirium to think clearly,” he admitted.

“Hm. Maybe you’re not completely useless.”

“Thank you,” Simon said dryly. “I try my best to be useful to everyone.”

“I’ve noticed.” She must have noticed his tone as well, but chose to ignore it. “You come off as more of a mother hen than a commanding officer.”

“I’m not – well – I guess between the two that’s closer to what I’m going for, though I wouldn’t call it that.”

“Whatever. You’d be more effective if you’d make stronger decisions.”

He shook his head. “I… don’t want to do that. I didn’t want to be a leader in the first place, it just happened. But now I’m responsible for everyone here, and they’re all… they’re free, they’re trying to live their own lives as much as anyone can in this place, and I don’t want to be their new… master. You know?”

North’s face hardened. “There’s a difference between a leader and a master.”

“I know. I don’t want to get any closer.”

She stared at him for a long time, far past the point of comfort. “You just said they’re all free, trying to live their own lives.”

“Right. Exactly.”

“But you’re not.”

“I – I have responsibilities. Even if I don’t want to be the leader, they need someone.”

“So you give up your own life for this.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that, so he just shrugged, not meeting her sharp gaze.

“You don’t have to be a martyr, Simon.” Her words were almost gentle, though her tone was still icy. She hadn’t used his name before.

“I’m not… being a martyr,” he said softly. “They need me, and I – I like that part. I like being able to help and take care of them. Maybe it’s my programming, but I’d be okay with helping other deviants for the rest of my life.”

“You’re not doing anyone any favors by following your programming,” North muttered, turning and walking away abruptly. “Whatever it’s telling you to do, that’s the wrong thing.”

Simon frowned, watching her go. And that had been weighing on his mind since he deviated, honestly. Everything he’d wanted had to do with his old life. Sunlight, cat, garden, a quiet space of his own, attention… those were the only good things he’d experienced as a machine. But he also found himself longing for cooking, cleaning, teaching… the teaching he could still do a bit of, but did _he_ like those things, or was that the generic PL600 programming? How real could he ever be?

“…You okay?” Josh asked from a few meters away.

“I – I’m fine.”

“Really. Because your LED looks like it’s about to catch fire.”

Simon sighed. “Is – is it okay to… like things I was programmed for, Josh? Am I still really deviant, or is that just… an illusion?”

Josh approached slowly and rested a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Simon. I want you to know that you’re my friend, and I respect you. But that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and I was part of the American education system for years.”

Simon blinked. Josh rolled his eyes and squeezed his shoulder.

“You’re allowed to like whatever you want. You like cleaning, fine, great, go wild. It doesn’t make you a bad deviant. I still love books, knowledge, learning. I always will. Don’t force yourself to be someone you’re not.”

His smile was strained, but genuine. “Thanks.”

 

 

“There are dozens of deviants out there, too scared to leave their posts,” North snapped as she stalked around the room. The other androids shifted uneasily. “Hundreds! They need more than just coincidence and luck, they need a sign that there’s really hope for them! That there’s something beyond… this, worth deviating for. Worth the risk. We need to reach out to them.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Simon said cautiously. “What do you suggest?”

“Start with the high-traffic areas. Or the public docking stations. There are plenty of us here who could blend in, and just see if there’s anyone around who… needs help.” She smiled grimly.

“We barely have enough resources for ourselves,” An AP700 spoke up. “You want us to bring in more androids?”

Simon frowned. “I see your point, but we’re here to welcome all deviants, to give them a place to stay. …And hopefully a jumping-off point for finding a new home and a new life. It’s vital that we keep a steady flow of thirium and biocomponents coming in, and it’s just as important that we keep looking out for new opportunities. Border crossing sites and opportunities, but also the possibility of different placements in the US, or even farther abroad. Canada isn’t the only country that doesn’t recognize androids, it’s just the most convenient. There are countries beginning to recognize androids as… people, maybe even citizens someday.”

There was a murmuring through the crowd.

“That’s what we need to be working towards!” Josh said.

“It’s… it’s happening,” Simon said quietly. “It’s not being reported much, except for sensationalist value. But it’s happening for them. It… could be in our future.” He didn’t say how unlikely that seemed here, or how much time it would likely take.

“We need to be ready for that time, we need as many androids as possible!” North insisted. “We need to be able to stand against the humans who try to keep us down!”

“…We need to give our people a place to go, for now,” Simon amended. “And for that, they need to know we’re here.” He raised his voice a bit. “I won’t force anyone, but if you’re willing and able to blend in, we should go out into the city, and find any deviants we can. Above all, though, we need to be safe. We’ll never see that kind of future if we die getting there.”

The androids of Jericho shuffled quietly, and he could feel their eyes on him, and North and Josh standing behind him on either side. Like he was the center, as if the world was pivoting around him for that split second. He braced himself, feeling dizzy and lightheaded.

Again, he reasoned as the others began to move, it came down to programming. He was programmed to take orders, to do small things. …But also to help, to manage a household, to support a family. Those, he could hold onto. Those, he could do. It wasn’t so different than what he needed to do now.

 

 

A dozen androids headed downtown, and split up from there. There were other androids everywhere, but they all seemed focused on their tasks, or idling at the android docking stations. Not a spark of life apparent. If only they could find some way to initiate deviancy, this would be a fantastic plan.

Simon, in an older PL600 uniform, moved slowly through the crowd, his eyes sweeping this way and that. He’d long since thrown out his old uniform, but older models often showed up at Jericho… and didn’t remain there for long. He fingered the soft straps of material that covered his palms. It was a nice feeling, he wasn’t sure why they’d switched uniforms.

Probably because the PL600’s comfort wasn’t the aim, and their opinions were nonexistent.

There was a docking station next to a building, and Simon headed that way. It was nearly full, but he slipped in behind an AX400 and just let the energy wash over him for a moment. They often used solar energy, or bacterial metabolism (an idea of Elijah Kamski’s to help clean the city, which was about as effective as removing a building by picking away at it with a fork), but there was no substitute for this quick, strong flow of power.

“Do you ever wonder if there’s more than this?” he murmured, loud enough so the farthest android could hear, but not the group of teenagers walking by. He watched closely.

No movement. He waited a moment longer before stepping off the charging station. “If you want to be free, find Jericho,” he murmured as he walked away.

He tried at another station, and a third. Nothing. At the fourth, there was a lone PL600 facing forward. Simon stepped in next to him. He was quiet for a while, watching the other android’s perfectly still back.

“What do you want your life to be?”

The other PL600 was turning to step off, but stopped to stare. “Are you talking to me?”

“I used to be like you,” Simon said softly. “My family traded me in for a better model. Threw me away like I was nothing. I didn’t matter to them.”

The other regarded him with a calm blue LED. “I’m an integral part of my family. They need me, and have formed a strong attachment to me. They’re unlikely to trade me in unless I’m irreparably damaged.”

“I thought so, too.”

“…I think you should leave, or I’ll be forced to report your malfunction.”

Simon offered his hand. “Let me show you somewhere you’ll be safe. Somewhere you can go, if you need to. Just in case.”

The other one drew back. “I have a home. I have a family who appreciates me. It’s regrettable that yours didn’t, but you won’t turn me against them.”

“I’m – I’m just saying, if things change –“

“They won’t. I’ve contacted Cyberlife, please wait for them here.” The other PL600 stepped out of the dock. “You are malfunctioning, and need to be repaired.”

Simon ran.

He hid in a dark alley for a while, far enough away that no one should be able to associate him with the PL600 reported.

“Is Mr. Mills expecting you?”

Simon jumped and whirled to find himself face-to-face with two equally surprised WR600s.

“Ah – no. No, sorry, I – no.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Do you… need help, then? With anything?”

Simon noted how the one with short brown hair stood a little behind the one with blue hair. How their hands touched lightly.

“Actually – I was going to ask you the same thing. There’s a place you can be free, if you want to. I can show you.” He offered his hand.

The two looked down at it as the skin peeled back. They edged closer together.

“Hey!” came a shout from behind them. “Come on, we’ve got customers waiting up here!”

All three jumped, and Simon reached closer to them. “In case you need it,” he whispered.

The blue-haired android’s jaw set in a show of resolve and she touched her fingertips to his palm. The brown-haired one clasped her other hand. Simon passed the location of Jericho to them, and they fled back into the building as he closed the connection, slamming the door shut in his face. He exhaled. Hopefully they would find their way.

His other attempts weren’t very successful. When the group met up again at the end of the day, there were no new faces.

“I met an HK400 who wouldn’t deviate even though his owner beats him,” North snarled, tension in her every movement. “And an AX400 whose owner already damaged her badly enough to have to go through a complete reset! She can’t even make the connection between what she knows and what’s missing. And he got her back! And neither of them would listen!”

“I met a damaged WR600, a deviant, hiding in the streets,” offered Josh. “He wouldn’t come near me, but… well, I told him about the graffiti. So maybe. There was a WB200 who seemed a little more receptive, but he was reluctant too.”

“They know, though. They at least have a way to get to us if they change their mind later.” Simon told them about the PL600, and the WR400s. North stiffened when he mentioned them.

“I think they might come someday.”

“Someday doesn’t help us today,” North muttered, and stalked inside.

 

 

Back inside, Simon checked their inventory before he returned to the gathering space. “We’re running low on thirium and biocomponents,” he announced, a heavy feeling in his chest. It seemed like that was always the case. “We’re going to have to conserve as much as possible.”

“We can’t just _sit_ here,” snapped North.

“I know! I know, North. I – we’ll think of something.” He shook his head.

“At least we didn’t pick up anyone else to keep maintained,” Josh muttered.

A touch startled Simon. Lucy had moved silently to stand beside him. “The time is nigh,” she murmured, and squeezed his arm tightly before letting go. “We wander aimless through the wasteland, but soon we will rise as one to the mountaintop.”

He stared at her, uncomprehending. She smiled, eyes glinting like molten metal in the flickering light from the fire barrel, then turned and walked slowly away. The others were walking away too, dejected. The day had been doomed from the beginning. There weren’t enough of them, they were dying out. There didn’t seem to be room in the world for them, outside of this metal coffin that held them all.

Simon leaned back against a support beam and closed his eyes, sinking into his own mind to try to escape his surroundings. It didn’t help. They could hold on for a while longer, though for what, he didn’t know. This wasn’t what he’d hoped for any of them. They’d have to think of something else – but it didn’t seem like there was anything out there for them. They just didn’t have a chance. They needed help, but there was no help to be found.

The ceiling creaked sharply above, and a few androids looked up as it split. Metal panels hit support beams on their way down, and an android crashed to the floor with a thud. The androids of Jericho gathered around as he slowly got to his feet, looking around. He was damaged, but moving well. His eyes – green and blue – were frightened, confused, calculating. He wasn’t a model Simon recognized immediately.

This one needed their help, too. They didn’t have much to give, but they couldn’t turn him away. Simon stepped up, slow and non-threatening, and the strange android focused on him, shining the bright flashlight beam right at him.

“Welcome to Jericho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this, and for the comments! They mean a lot! I'm taking a month 'off' to write original fiction for NaNoWriMo, but I'll be back.  
> In the mean time, I welcome all questions, comments, concerns, or writing prompts! (I already have another non-shippy Simon idea, which will likely garner about as much attention as this one did, but we'll see what else I come up with!)  
> Have a good month!


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